Timebomb
by gloriousforbes
Summary: The plan was to use the sword to find another - what they didn't count on what the spell backfiring. The result? Caroline and Stefan, stuck in a time when hunters are very much alive, with a big bad hybrid who seems to have taken a keen interest in them. Set after 4x05, Klaroline / Steroline.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my author's note. This isn't my first fic ever, but it's my first TVD one. Please let me know if you think anything is wrong / implausible!**

**Couple of house keeping things:**

**- This is set after 4x05, with a couple of minor changes; rather than Damon knowing about the swords / cure, Caroline does.  
- Tyler didn't cheat, but he has feelings for Hayley, and she reciprocates them.  
****- Bonnie hasn't visited the Professor at all - she agrees to use her powers because she wants Elena to be human again.**

**Enjoy, read, review, you know the drill. 8D**

* * *

You know the worst part about being a vampire? You can forget about normalcy. Seriously, the average life is underrated. Yeah, it may be boring, but whenever bad things happen, you can see a solution, and at least you know the solution is feasible. And real.

I'm rambling. I guess it's just that, sometimes, I don't want to be part of the supernatural world. It doesn't go by the same rules as everything else.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" I can hear the apprehension in my voice, and I know it annoys Bonnie because of the face she pulls. I pull one of the grimoires down from the shelf and in to my lap, and she follows suit.

"Anything that deals with the fabric of time." She responds before setting down a grimoire on the coffee table. We're in the Salvatore boarding house, patiently awaiting the arrival of Stefan. Well, Bonnie is patient. I'm tapping my heel. The sooner we get this over with, the better.

Klaus hadn't initially wanted to tell Bonnie about the cure, but then Stefan and I had argued that we would need a witch in the midst of this, and since Klaus had torn out the heart of the last witch he'd used, there wasn't anyone else. Plus, Bonnie was almost as determined as Stefan was when it came to the whole Elena-human-vs-vampire thing. And she was powerful.

So it was just the four of us that knew about the tattoos, the cure, and now the swords.

Which brings us to looking for a spell that would allow a momentary glimpse into the past – just enough for us to see where another of the swords is. I'm almost positive I'm going to be of no help, since my knowledge of magic is limited to Harry Potter, but it isn't really fair to make Bonnie comb through a million and one spell books all by herself.

My ears prick at the sound of feet crackling through undergrowth. "Stefan's nearly here." I say, and a heartbeat later he is striding through the door.

"How's Elena?" Bonnie asks him when he's close enough.

A small frown crosses his face at the question. "She's fine, she's with Damon."

Stefan probably isn't _fine _with that, but there's nothing else to be done. I shoot him a hesitant smile as he grabs a grimoire, and then the reading game begins.

* * *

Four hours later, and we're no closer than we were when we started. That's not to say we haven't found anything useful – there was this weird incantation that supposedly gave someone the sensation of drowning – but nothing dealing with time. Naturally, I got bored after the first twenty minutes.

An hour in, Stefan grabbed us a couple of blood bags and I've been absentmindedly sipping from one ever since. Bonnie lets out a cry of frustration as she slams close another book.

"Time for a break, I think." I say, standing up and stretching my legs. What I really mean to say is – enough for the day. Regardless of how distracted she might have been during "vamp training" with Damon, Elena is bound to want to know what's been keeping us occupied for an entire afternoon.

"Good idea." Bonnie's face breaks into relief, and the three of us traipse outside.

Stefan starts to speak. "So, if they ask –"

"– I've been looking for some new protective spells –"

"And we offered to help." I chime in. We each share a glance, maybe because we know that it's never going to be as simple as giving them an excuse. They'll want to know the why as well, but that is not going to happen.

After I've dropped Bonnie off at her house (she said she wanted to spend some more time looking through spell books at her house) we head to the Grill. We spend the entire drive in silence, more because I know if I open my mouth I'll start rambling about how Elena loves him, she wouldn't do anything with Damon, she's fine, this will all be fine eventually.

We reach the bar just as I spot Tyler walking in. I swallow. To say the discovery of his pretty werewolf friend had put a black spot on our relationship was an understatement. I want to trust him, I do, but the fact that he didn't say a single thing about her at all says more than his rushed apology.

But I love him. I'm not just going to give up.

Stefan and I sidle out of the car and through the door. The first thing I see is a smile Elena and smug Damon, both seated at the bar. Stefan must have noticed this too, because he tenses ever so slightly. The pair of them spot us, and Elena's smile drops slightly as she moves away from Damon.

"I'm going to go find Tyler." I say, as inconspicuously as I can. The man I want is in the corner, talking to one of his football friends. I head in his direction, flicking some hair off my face in the process. When I reach him, it's just the two of us.

"Hi." I say, giving him a small smile.

"Hey." He responds.

I don't know what to say next. I could start with one of many prepared speeches about our relationship, but I don't want to be that girl anymore. So, instead, I open my mouth and ask a question. "How are you?" When he tilts his head to the side as though he's not sure where I'm going with this, I press on. "I mean, I know you were kind of close with Dean, so."

He nods. "Yeah, it sucks. The whole sire thing sucks." A muscle in his jaw tenses.

"I'm sorry." I take a step closer with every intention of hugging him, but he glances away. The impulse dies in my throat.

He shrugs. "It just makes me more determined to break everyone else out of it."

I look down at my hands. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

The look he gives me – it's like he can't believe I wouldn't immediately take his side. "Klaus is evil Care, and he needs to be stopped."

"I know that. I just mean – I don't think you should go blindly declaring war on him." I shrug, trying to diffuse the tension, even though part of me is boiling inside.

"Why? Because you don't think he deserves that? Because he likes you?"

I can literally feel the pink rise to my cheeks. "No." I press my lips together in a firm line. "I don't care about Klaus, I care about you."

"So why are you defending him?"

"I'm not!" Now I'm angry. I don't want him to take on Klaus for _his_ sake – and he thinks I'm against him? The guy is an original – you don't just lightly plot against them without having some kind of death wish.

And how he's just as infuriated as I am. "He tried to have me kill you!"

"Exactly Tyler!" I shriek. To hell with the fact that people are staring, or that I must look crazy, or even to the small voice in my head that screams Klaus didn't let me die when he could have. "You of all people know what he's capable of – do you actually think he's going to just _let_ you take his hybrids away?"

He eyes find mine. "What else can I do?"

It takes a second for me to realise that there's no easy way to fix this. "I don't know." I say in a small voice that reminds me too much of the insecure girl I used to know. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I can't be selfish about this Care." He says softly.

_Selfish._ The word hits me somewhere in my stomach. "Is that what you think I'm being?" I demand.

He doesn't say anything, and his hand drops from my arm. Of course. I'm being selfish. And a control freak. A teenage vampire who can't control her emotions. He doesn't have time for this kind of thing, not when he's out on some hell-bent-hybrid mission thing.

"I'll be fine. Hayley has this ide –"

"Right. Hayley. I forgot, your new best friend." The words escape before I even have the chance to think them over, and they are drenched in bitterness.

His face hardens. "I thought you understood."

"Well, you didn't exactly give me much to go on." I bite back as I turn away. Right now, the mask that holds back a tidal wave of emotions is wearing thin, and I can't quite frankly keep it together while he just stands there as though nothing is wrong.

And because the universe is clearly set on screwing me over, Hayley chooses that moment to make her presence known. How freaking _perfect_. Tyler catches my arm just as she spots us.

"Care, please." The other girl starts to walk towards us. I turn back to face him, one last time. "I need you to be with me." He needs me on his side – that's what he means. I can't quite find the words, even though I had them before.

"Ty – everything okay?" Her voice breaks my reverie. I swallow.

"Just _teen drama._" I say, facing Hayley, who doesn't seem fazed by her lack of timing. "I'll let you two get back to your precious plan." The sarcasm drips, and I stalk off before either of them have time to say anything else.

* * *

I wake up the next day groggy and bloated. Well, not actually bloated – one of the nice things about having fangs is not worrying about my weight, which I certainly embraced last night when I made my way through an entire tub of Ben and Jerry's. Naturally, I watched 'Love Actually' and spent at least 90% of it in tears. Partly because of my fight with Tyler, but also because _what did Emma Thompson ever do to make her husband look at another woman?_

I was pathetic, but I probably needed to get it out of my system.

After my first coffee, Bonnie calls. "Hi." I answer, suppressing a yawn.

"Hey. Are you going to be able to come up today? I think I might have found something."

"Oh." Needless to say, I'd completely forgotten about the search for swords. It would provide a nice distraction though. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Cool." She pauses, and I know her well enough to know there's something else on her mind but she doesn't know how to say it.

"Bon, what's up?"

She breathes through the line. "Elena told me you had a fight with Tyler."

"Yeah." I sigh, and my free hand comes up to rub my temples gently. "It's not even that complicated. It's just stupid."

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks, gently. A surge of gratitude runs through me.

"I'd like that. But not over the phone, I don't want to deprive you of my ugly tears face."

She starts to laugh, and it takes less than a second for me to join in. "Okay, well, I'm heading over to Stefan's right now, meet me there?"

After she's hung up, I scribble mom a quick note, just letting her know where I'll be. I feel kind of guilty about barely talking to her last night, but there will be plenty of time for a debrief later.

Instead of taking the car to the Salvatore's, I decide to run there. The woods between our houses aren't exactly populated by normal people, and it's been a while since I've had the chance to stretch my legs. I jog out, across the street, and when I'm positive I'm out of the eyesight of non-supernaturals, I start to sprint. The wind whips my curls into a frenzy around my head, and I'm lost in the exhilaration.

My senses have full control; every leaf is sharper, every flower is sweeter, and every word uttered in that flawless English accent is –

_What_?

I immediately stop running, and there he is; leaning against a tree, and saying my name through that ridiculously cute smirk he wears.

"Klaus." I fold my arms across my chest. "What are you doing here?"

He grins. "No welcome back kiss? As I recall, the last time we were in these woods, you were propositioning me for – what exactly did you call it?" He tilts his head, and his eyes roam over my face languidly.

I scoff. "Drop the innocent act. Seriously, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Italy?" I take a step in the direction of the Salvatore's, just in case I need a head start.

"I'm back. And bearing gifts." It's only then that a notice the long, slender package he's been idly holding in one hand. A couple of pieces of puzzle click in my head.

"Is that –"

"Indeed." He grins.

I manage a smile. "Can I look at it?"

"Patience, love." I scowl at the 'term of endearment,' which he sees as an _obvious_ sign to continue. "You know, if it's swords you're interested in, I've got a particular specimen that –"

"Don't finish that sentence!" I shriek, which only makes his smirk wider. Admittedly, part of me wants to smile back, but that's probably because I'm starved of affection right now, so I'll take what I can get.

"I was merely going to say I have a collection at my house I'd be happy to show you." He holds out a hand invitingly.

"I can't." Mockingly, I place my hand on my heart. "What a shame." I make an attempt to dash off, only he side steps in front of me, effectively blocking my exit.

"Where are you running off to?" He asks, simply.

I expel some air in a somewhat annoyed fashion. "Stefan's. If you must know, we're working on finding another sword."

"In that case, I'll join you." He moves aside, and gestures in front of him, as though he thinks we'll run off like chums in the sunset. Not going to happen. My hands find my hips, and I fix him with a look that is supposed to say "_back off_."

"You're not invited." I say, resolute.

He grins. "Sweetheart, it's not going to be much of a witchy hoodoo if you're missing your prize artifact." He holds the sword up, tantalizingly.

Damn it. He's right. I don't know much about magic, but I'm guessing that simply having a sword there would help infinite amounts with finding another one. That doesn't mean I'm going to let him have his way easily. My eyes narrow as I swallow a small amount of pride. "Fine. You can come." I flick some hair over my shoulder. "But play nice or Bonnie will have full permission to use you as a guinea pig for her new spell."

He smirks, and I run off.

When we arrive, Bonnie is already there. She goes to say hello, but the words seem to die in her mouth when she sees Klaus, who comes in a split second after me. Stefan stands, and there's an awkward couple of seconds when no one speaks.

"He insisted." I roll my eyes, and shoot both of them a look that says "_we'll talk later._"

Without waiting for a response, Klaus saunters in like the whole goddamn world has been tattooed with his name. "Stefan, so delightful to see you again." He claps a hand on the other man's shoulder, who manages a stiff nod. "And Bennett Junior! Here I was thinking you'd sworn off magic. Let's hope your relapse hasn't stinted your powers." He smiles at her, but the expression doesn't extend beyond his lips.

Bonnie narrows her eyes, and Klaus tenses his jaw. Neither of them break eye contact, so I'm guessing they're waging mental warfare. Bonnie's probably trying to give him an aneurism, and Klaus is fighting it off. A sliver of pain crosses his face, but then it disappears.

"I think they're fine." Bonnie says casually, as she looks away.

"No more demonstrations." Klaus growls, taking a step closer. A shadow sets in across his face, and I recognise enough warning signs to know that things could get very messy, very quickly.

Stefan comes to the rescue, clearing his throat. "Did you get the sword?"

Klaus looks away from Bonnie, the hints of a smile starting. Crossing the room, he sets the package down on the table, and begins to unwrap it from the material it's enclosed in. Without waiting for permission, the three of us join him. The last piece of cloth is pushed aside, and there's a moment in which we're all thinking the same thing; one piece of the puzzle fixed. This cure thingo is _real_.

And then the second is broken when Bonnie reaches out a hand to touch it. A sassy Klaus appears; he tuts and swats her hand away.

"Unless you want to find your arm missing an appendage, no contact is to be made with the sword." He drawls, before wrapping it up once more. I glare at him. Maybe I wasn't obvious enough the first time. Or maybe Bonnie addled his brain with their mental scuffle before. Either way –

"I'm doing this for her benefit." He says, before I even have a chance to berate him. "The last person who touched it had the flesh of their hand seared off." He shrugs and saunters off. So now I have to content myself with glaring at his back.

Stefan folds his arms across his chest. "The hunters were bound to their swords by magic, so it makes sense that the weapons themselves would have some kind of protection." He runs a hand over his forehead.

"So we can't actually touch the sword." I try rationalising, because both Bonnie and Stefan are looking more and more annoyed. Klaus is doing God knows what, but I highly doubt it's anything productive. "So what. We can still use it in a location spell, right?"

Bonnie huffs. "Maybe, maybe not. Who knows what other kinds of protection it has on it." She flops on to the couch, and sits there staring at a grimoire that is strewn across the table.

"Well, we'll just have to try everything then." I shrug, looking to Stefan for support. He nods, and we both grab another grimoire and sit down on the couch. Before opening mine, I glance back up to Klaus who is watching me with a curious look on his face.

"Well, I'd love to join your little book club," He chuckles, and starts to walk in the direction of the door, "But I've got some more pressing matters to attend to." And with that, he walks out. I scowl and turn back to reading. It's only a matter of time before we find something that works, and luckily time is something we've got on our side.

* * *

**So no time travel stuff this chapter, sorry! The big spell thingo will happen very soon though. If the characters seem OOC, please let me know!**

**Follow me on tumblr gloriousforbes  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Firstly, I just wanted to say thank you very much for following / favouriting / reviewing! I really appreciate it. Really quickly, there's one thing I think I should mention - I wrote this before 4x06, so I didn't think much of the Elena killing Connor thing, hence the repercussions of that (the hallucinations) aren't really going to be a big part of this chapter. No spoilers for the actual show are included either, but since I intend to write some scenes about what's happening back in Mystic Falls in the present time, expect there to be a couple of parallels to what's going on in the show right now.**

**As always, let me know if you think something isn't right!**

**OH and since I forgot to do this on the last chapter:**

**DOUBLE DISCLAIMER: I don't own a single thing aside from the laptop I'm writing this on, sadly.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

I yawn. And then five seconds later, I yawn again. You'd think that because I technically don't need sleep anymore, I wouldn't be able to yawn – but I guess I proved that hypothesis wrong. Maybe because a yawn can also signify boredom? Whatever. Of course I'm bored – the grimoire I'm reading doesn't even make sense, and it's not like I can google translate or something.

I sigh, and toss the book aside. I'm in bed, and it's ten at night, but I thought I'd at least try to read a couple more spells. It's not like I could do much if I found anything, but at least I'd have something to tell Bonnie tomorrow.

But no. Not happening.

I lean my head back against the headboard. Last time I checked, we'd been through at least two dozen books, and the only mentions of time travel had been warnings – _Don't mess with the past or the future, you'll seriously screw things over_, etc, that kind of thing. It wasn't even like we wanted to change it! I liked to think of it as us looking back at old photos. Granted, photos that moved, but that was the extent of it.

Bonnie was also attempting to find a spell that might remove the protections the sword had, but we weren't hoping for much on that front. Aside from the fact that we only knew of one member of the Five, we had no idea who cast the spell in the first place.

I sigh and slide back down under the covers, brushing my hair aside. Just because I can't sleep doesn't mean I don't want to.

* * *

_The first thing I'm aware of is a pair of lips, and they are pressed against mine so ferociously you'd think I was the elixir of life or something. But then the pressure changes – soft now. They pull away. I open my eyes, and Tyler is above me, shirtless. There is a grin on his face – a grin that says he knows exactly the way I feel and he's happy to be the cause of it. I glance down – I'm wearing nothing except my favourite matching set of Victoria's Secret lingerie, and Tyler is likewise clad in a pair of boxers that do little to hide his bulge._

_This is weird. But, before I have the chance to say anything about it, he's kissing me again, and it's just so familiar, and so **nice** that I can't help myself. I kiss back. His tongue grazes the edge of my lips, and I moan into his. Without thinking, my hands roam over his naked back, and find their way to the nape of his neck. When I start to trace patterns there, matching the same pressure as the kisses he bestows on my neck, I feel a shiver run over him. Which is enough to make me grind my chest, my hips, my legs, against his. I want more._

_He pulls himself back up to my face, kissing it slowly._

"_Wait." My voice is little more than a whisper. "Aren't we fighting?"_

"_Never stopped this before." He murmurs back. He starts a trail of kisses from my neck down to my chest, and they leave a burning feel on my skin that spreads until I'm sure I could burn from lust. And then he's kissing the places where fabric meets skin, and he doesn't stop._

"_Tyler." I moan, my hand in his hair._

"_Darling." He purrs back._

_And that's when I know something's wrong. It's the word, it's the way it's said. It's the way his hair suddenly feels – less coarse, more curled. And when I look down, expecting to see my sort-of boyfriend at my hips, it's not him._

_It's Klaus. He's giving me a smirk that just screams **sex**, but his eyes are promising more than that. I should throw him off me, scream at him, make some kind of statement to let him know that I don't want him, but nothing happens. Instead, I just lie there, torn between wanting more and wanting clarity._

"_Come to me." He whispers. And then the dream breaks, and I wake up, covered in sweat and with an insatiable feeling between my legs._

* * *

I find myself back at the Salvatore's the next day. We agreed that for the sake of keeping things on the down low, one of us should spend time with Elena / Damon / the rest of the gang; hence for a bit of time today it was going to be me and Stefan only.

Bonnie arrives a couple of hours later, with news that Elena is doing better with her control lessons. I was kind of – well, surprised to be honest, when I heard that she'd gotten Damon to teach her. But then again, she was miserable following her murder of Connor, and Damon seemed to do a pretty good job of cheering her up. And if it was working – well, good. If all this failed, at least we knew Elena could live as a vampire.

I'm halfway through reading some spell that supposedly transforms wood into paper when Bonnie cries out.

I immediately jump up and run to her. "What? Are you okay?" I get out in a hurry. Stefan is looking her way as well, but she doesn't seem hurt or anything. In fact, she seems surprised, happy even.

"I think I found something." She looks to both of us, a smile starting, before she places the open grimoire on the table in front of her. "A spell."

"What does it do?" Stefan asks.

"It sounds like it shows magical history," She starts hesitantly, "So if an object had some kind of curse place upon it…"

"It could show us when and where it happened?" He continues her train of thought, taking a step closer. There's a light in his eyes I haven't seen in a while, and I recognise it in a second as hope.

Bonnie smiles back slowly. "I think so. But it's complex, and given the protection the sword has, I don't know how well it will work."

She's looking at both of us now, as though afraid of what we might say. "Shouldn't this history spell take into account the fact than an object has a spell on it in the first place so it wouldn't really matter?" I get out in a single breath. Stefan and Bonnie exchange glances.

"I mean, the spell only deals with magical stuff, right?" Without waiting for an answer, I press on. "So there isn't really a problem then." I bite my lip. I'm willing to bet they're still more or less lost as to what I'm saying.

But Bonnie is nodding. "Okay, let's say the spell works. What then?"

Stefan furrows his brow. "Does the spell show all history, or just a particular point?"

"You mean, as in whether the sword came into contact with magic more than once?" She says.

He nods. "Because then we could see points in time when another sword was present."

"Right, but how are we supposed to then see the history of that sword?" I interject. It feels like the second we solve one problem, another crops up, and before we know it, it's going to be one big mess of spells and swords and whatnot. Worse still, we'd need to do this process a couple more times over to figure out where the rest of the swords are. "Why can't we just do a location spell?" I add on, huffing in annoyance. Really, that would probably be _so_ much simpler, and it wouldn't have all these weird time side affects.

"Because we don't know it would work." Bonnie responds. "But also because if we could see the original ritual with the hunters, we wouldn't need to do the spell again to find the other swords or the hunters."

Figures. Nothing is ever easy with us.

"One spell to find them all." I mutter, under my breath. Stefan manages a smile, but it quickly disappears, as though he's remembered something unpleasant.

For a moment, his eyes don't meet ours. "There's something else." He swallows. "Klaus came to see me yesterday. He wants to use Jeremy."

Bonnie reacts instantly. "No." Her eyes blaze with fierce determination. "No way. No, I won't let him."

I was scowling the second he said it as well. "Why is it that he can't even live by his own rules? Seriously, he tells us to keep this a secret and now he wants to involve someone else? No freaking way." Stefan goes to speak, but I jump in before he has a chance. "Jeremy doesn't deserve this." Besides, what good would involving Jeremy do? Even if he can see the tattoos, it's not worth putting his life in danger again. There's got to be another hunter out there, and given the fact that Mystic Falls is pretty much a magnet for crazy supernaturals, I think we can assume it will really only be a matter of time before one turns up.

"I agree." Stefan says. His lips form a thin line. "Which is why we need to do the next step without Klaus."

There's a beat in which none of us speak. I'm too busy considering whether we even could. Expelling some air, I run a hand over my forehead. "He's not going to like it."

"So we say that the essence of the spell was in the timing." Bonnie says without much prompting. "He'll get over it once he gets his other precious swords."

Somehow, I highly doubt he will. But there's no way any of us are compromising on this topic. It's just us, just the three of us, and that isn't going to change. "Alright. But we'll need to make sure he's out of the way when we're doing it."

Stefan gives me a look. And I know exactly what he's thinking.

_No_. I start shaking my head, and without meaning too, I back away.

"Caroline, please." Stefan is pleading. "You're the only one he actually seems to like." He swallows, as though it's a fact he's not pleased to admit.

"I can't." The words come out before I can stop, and I'm ashamed of them.

"You just said we need a distraction for Klaus!" Bonnie literally starts siding with Stefan, and the two of them face me. There are so many reasons why I can't – last night's dream being the start of them. And whether or not I could admit it to them, I'm tired of being used as Klaus bait – no matter how much I don't really hate his company.

But what the hell am I supposed to say? _Sorry guys, wish I could, but it would be kind of awkward since I dreamed about nearly having sex with him and I don't hate him enough for it to just be 'part of the plan.'_ That would go down _so_ well.

"Klaus is too smart." I say, as firmly as I can with a toss of my hair. "He would see it coming from a mile away. And you don't play the same angle twice, you try something different!" I say, my voice verging on desperate.

"Like what?" Stefan is frowning again.

"I don't know!" I throw my hands up. "Invent some kind of hybrid drama or something."

Stefan and Bonnie share a look, before the other girl starts to speak. "Care –"

"No!" I cut her off, before breathing out some of the tension that constricts my throat. "Please don't ask me to do it again, because I can guarantee it won't work."

Stefan stares at me for a second, his face a mixture of things I can't pick. Maybe I'm being selfish and stupid – maybe he wants nothing more than to yell some sense in to me.

Only he doesn't. "Okay." His voice is quiet. "But we'll need to be thorough. You're right about Klaus being too smart to fall for the same thing twice."

A momentary weight lifts of my shoulders – that is, until I realise we've still got another problem to deal with. "How are we going to get the sword away from him? He's like a kid with his ice cream."

Bonnie smiles, as though she's been considering this. "If you can give me a minute of Klaus-free time with the sword, I'll handle it."

* * *

The next few days are tense. Bonnie is on edge, and she spends most of her time memorising the spells as best as she can. Stefan is avoiding everyone, I'm avoiding Klaus. Every time his name pops into his head all I can see is those lips, sinful lips, the same lips that murmur, and kiss, and suck and –

Shit.

I have to shake my head to get the image out, and even then fragments linger. The drive to the Salvatore's seems longer than normal, but that's probably because I'm anxious to get back inside the house to get this spell over and done with. Klaus is going to be there as well, but with any luck it'll only be a short visit.

Speak of the devil – when I arrive, he's slouched on the couch, drinking a scotch. His eyes drift up to mine, a genuine smile already forming. I don't know why, but that very sight alone makes me stop for a second.

"Caroline." He stands up, literally _sweeping_ past Stefan in the process. When he nears me, he doesn't say anything. He just kind of stands there, with that same smile, so I raise my eyebrows, and he tilts his head. "Well, it's lovely to see you again so soon."

I can feel Stefan staring, but I put it out of mind for the moment. "Two times in as many days. Must be something of a record." I role my eyes, although there's nothing malicious about it. "Right." I stride past Klaus, trying to keep my face as neutral as possible. "As soon as Bonnie arrives, we'll try a couple of basic spells, and when we know it's not dangerous, we'll keep looking for a bigger spell, yes?"

I look between the two men. One, nodding, the other, smirking. Although I can't imagine why.

"So where is your witchy little friend?" Klaus asks as he sets down his glass on another table.

"Her name is Bonnie." I say firmly, planting my arms across my chest.

"She's coming." Stefan says, before a fight can erupt. I shoot him a grateful look, which morphs into something of a '_You ready to go?_' face. What can I say? No situation is too tense for a good old cheer-captain-prepping-the-team.

"Mind giving us a moment, mate?" Klaus's voice sounds. I'm too busy with my thoughts to realise that he's talking to Stefan, and by the time I've turned to Klaus to rebuff him, Stefan is already laying a hand on my arm. And then he lets me go, and backs out of the room.

Uh, déjà vu much?

Once my only ally here is outside, I round on the hybrid. "What?" I scowl, completely discarding the ambivalent face I had going.

He takes a step closer. And then he swallows, as though anxious – which is a dumb thought, because Klaus never gets nervous about anything. "I heard about Tyler."

Oh. Subconsciously, I react with hostility; my arms are folded across my chest, and I purposely look anywhere but his face. "Yeah, you and the rest of this town. So if you're going to gloat, just get it over and done with already."

He frowns. "He hurt you; that's not something I'd be happy about." Not for the first time, I find our eyes connecting, and in that moment – I don't know, maybe I'm crazy and naïve for thinking it, but I feel like he's being sincere.

His face switches to a smile. "You know, being the original hybrid does come with certain benefits." I catch myself watching the way his lips form certain words. "I could always have him driven out of town."

I scoff, but it turns into a laugh rather quickly – he joins in.

"Thanks, but no thanks." I say, after both of us look mildly composed again. That's one of his offers that I don't think I'll take him up on. Besides, if I wanted Tyler out of my life, I'd do it myself.

He goes to say something else, and as if on cue, Bonnie strides through the door, grimoire in hand. Klaus stiffens, before grabbing his drink once more and swallowing the last of it. There's a sour look on his face. Bonnie, completely unaware of whatever just transpired, smiles at me, just as Stefan re-enters the dining room.

She sets down the book next to the sword, and I go to help her with setting up candles around it. We talk in hushed voices, mainly about Elena, just for the sake of making things seem normal. Klaus sits back down on the couch, but Stefan remains standing, his arms folded across his chest. Once we're done, Bonnie stands closest to the table, her eyes bearing down on the weapon. And then it starts to levitate. Her hand moves through the air gently, and the sword mimics it. After a couple of more complex movements, the sword is gently rested back on its protective cloth.

She tries a few more things, and they all go off without a hitch. Naturally, Klaus makes a point of asking her exactly what she's doing before every spell, but we'd counted on that. When Bonnie announces one final one, my breath unwittingly hitches in my throat. I have to make a point of looking anywhere but the couch.

"I'm just seeing if any of these spells have damaged or changed the magic around the sword in any way." Bonnie responds calmly to his attempts at interrogation. Klaus leans back in his seat, murmuring something about 'getting on with it,' and the other girl starts chanting under her breath in Latin.

Thirty seconds pass. The candles are still flickering. I can feel myself itching to tap my foot, but mom always told me that doing that was a sure fire way to alert people as to when I was tense. So, instead, I stand there, my eyes drifting over to Stefan's, whose poker face is far more refined than mine. And then it's over. Bonnie sinks into a chair. "Done."

Klaus claps his hands together, once. At the exact same moment he stands up to retrieve the sword, Stefan's phone rings. He answers it. Whoever it is on the other line causes Stefan to speak in hushed tones, and he exits the room to go outside, although not before shooting me a furtive glance. Klaus seems curious, even more so when he spots my worried face.

"Don't tell me – hallucinations in paradise?" A knowing look crosses his face.

"Nothing to concern you." I fold my arms across my chest, but my pulse is racing, and he knows it. Without giving me a chance to stop him, he follows Stefan, out of the room. I wait twenty seconds, until I'm absolutely sure that both of them are beyond the reach of listening ears. And then I turn to Bonnie.

"Good to go." I say, still in the grip of nerves, although for a different reason now. She nods, and starts chanting again. The sword disappears – and then, a single second later, it is back. My breathing starts to become erratic again. Bonnie stops, the flames on the candles extinguish immediately, and I step forward.

"Time for the test." Bonnie breathes. Tentatively, I reach for the sword. My fingers make contact with it, and nothing happens. Absolutely nothing. We look at each other, matching victorious smiles in place.

I can hear Stefan and Klaus coming back, so I retreat a safe distance from the table.

"I don't want to talk about it Bonnie." I say, giving her a look. She catches on immediately.

"Well maybe you should talk to him." She suggests.

I scoff, not entirely acting. "And give him another chance for a pathetic apology? No thanks."

Her face softens, and for a moment I forget that this entire conversation is just for show. "You know you can talk to me, whenever you need to." Before I can respond, the two men come back into the room. Stefan looks worried, Klaus looks – well, it's Klaus.

"Everything alright?" I direct my question at Stefan. He doesn't say anything, but I get the impression that he'll tell me when the time comes. Regardless of the fact that the entire phone call had been staged, the conversation with Klaus that followed might not have been.

"Considering we're one step closer to finding our cure, I'd say things are going swimmingly." Klaus, _the eternal optimist_, starts to delicately re-wrap the sword. "Call me when you're ready for something bigger." He doesn't say it to anyone in particular, but still he manages a secret smile in my direction. I've got an urge to laugh – the thousand year old hybrid wants us to _call him_ – but there's something else weighing in on my mind.

He doesn't suspect a single thing. I wouldn't normally feel guilty about something like that, only this time… Regardless of his sometimes questionable motives, I can't deny the fact that without him, we wouldn't even know about the swords, the hunters, or the cure. More importantly, he's been nothing but a gentleman to me.

And I repay him by cutting him out of the plan.

"He's gone." Stefan's voice pulls me from my reverie. Now that Klaus is at a safer distance, probably heading back to his mansion, we can get phase two underway. I spare a glance at Bonnie, and it is enough to remind me of why this next step is necessary; if we don't do this now, Klaus will find away to rope Jeremy in.

We walk from the room, and wind our way down to the old cells under the house. I don't relish the thought of being in anything that might resemble the prisons I've been kept in before, but we all agreed that it was safest to attempt it down here.

We enter one of them, and the scene identically resembles one we witnessed just minutes ago; a table, laden with candles, and the sword at the centre of them.

"So this is the real one." Stefan murmurs. The flames flicker across the markings, giving it some odd, mystical quality that sends shivers up my spine for some unknown reason.

Bonnie nods. "As soon as I start this spell though, the replica one I created before might wear off." A worrisome look crosses her face, and I can't help but feel nervous as well. There are so many _ifs_ right now, the least of them being whether this magical history spell will work.

Then again. "Maybe it won't though." I try for positivity.

Neither of them say anything though, so I decide to stop talking as well. After a moment, Bonnie steps closer to the candles, closes her eyes, and begins chanting. At first, nothing much happens. The height of the flames increases slightly. And then, out of nowhere, the sword begins to emit a faint glow. It expands and flows outwards, forming what pretty much looks like a mirror above the table.

Bonnie keeps chanting. The mirror thing reverberates.

And is it just me, or is it getting ridiculously warm in here?

I don't have much time to consider what that might mean before the ground beneath us shudders. It literally _shudders._ I shriek, and as if on instinct, grab Stefan's arm. The mini earthquake hasn't stopped yet. I turn to Bonnie, fully intent on snapping her out of whatever it is she's doing, only it's like she's in a trance, and nothing short of a nuclear bomb would wake her up.

The flames are licking higher, the sword starts floating, the mirror thing expands, I'm screaming, Stefan is yelling, I'm reaching out to the other girl, and then in some weird kind of crescendo that pretty much screams witchy intervention, the entire thing stops.

And then the mirror shatters.

And the room explodes.

* * *

**Who hates cliffhangers? Ehehehehehehehe.**

**Just an explanation regarding the spells - so Bonnie does perform a couple to genuinely test whether or not the sword will work with them. The final spell (the one that Caroline gets nervous about) is essentially the replica spell - Bonnie set up the ritual in the cell earlier on, so that when she did that spell then, another sword was created downstairs. In my head, this sword would be an exact physical replica of the real one, minus the magic. When Stefan distracted Klaus by getting him out of the room, Bonnie performed another spell to swap the two, which is why the sword disappeared for a second and then reappeared. So Klaus has the fake one is his possession. Sorry if that was confusing!  
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**One final thing - next chapter will be the first one in which Stefan and Caroline are in a different time. In case people are interested, it's going to be set either during the 17th or 18th century - haven't decided which yet, so let me know if you have a preference!**

**Follow me on tumblr at gloriousforbes 8D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Massive thankyou to everyone, regardless of whether you followed or reviewed or what not. It's awesome. (:****  
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**Someone asked whether the Steroline pairing with be a friendship or romance in this (excellent question, by the way) - to begin with, they're friends. Best friends, actually. Stefan and Caroline have always been two of my favourite characters, and I love the way Caroline has sort of developed that Lexi-esque bond with him. So right now at least, they're very close - as you'll probably see in this chapter. There's nothing romantic between them, but I do plan on something developing down the track. There's also the potential for Klefaroline, if that's what people want. That's all I'll say for now 8D  
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**DISCLAIMER: I don't own a single thing.  
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* * *

Waking up in pain has got to be one of the worst experiences ever. Probably because you're predisposed to thinking that whatever issues your body has will magically heal overnight. It's a stupid theory, but given that I'm a vampire it's one I can certainly buy into. Not right now though. No, right now, I feel like my insides have been boiled in vervain and then gutted and skewered and served as some foreign delicacy. Worse than with Damon, worse than the torture from the werewolves, worse even than the sun crypt my own dad put me in.

I open my eyes, and the first image to assault me is of greenery. Lots and lots of greenery. And it's swaying gently, so every now and then little sections of darkness peak through. I lie there for what seems like hours but is probably only minutes, simply waiting for the pain to subside. It does so, but gradually. And even then, it still hurts when I move a single centimetre; like breathing brings a new round of spasms. When I've regained enough feeling to grasp leaves in my hands, I gingerly sit up. And then a lot of things come rushing back to me at once.

The sword. The spell. The explosion.

_Shit_. It had all gone wrong. And now I'm stuck in the middle of a forest, in the middle of the night, with no idea of how I even got there aside from some weird mirror thing and the explosion that tore through the room like a thousand vervain grenades and –

Something's groaning. No, _someone_. My eyes widen, as I whip around on the ground to face the source of the sound. It's Stefan, lying less than a metre away from me, and in about the same shape I was a couple of minutes ago – at least, from what I can tell at first glance. And if that's the case, he's not going to want to move until his body has healed him.

I part crawl, part drag myself over. When I reach him, there's the urge to poke him, see if he's responsive, but I don't want to do anything that might hurt him. Having said that, patience is not my forte, and waiting around for him to wake up while I'm having an insane freak out by myself – wait, he's groaning again. I steady myself for his imminent awakening.

A spit second after he's opened his eyes, he's swung upwards, bearing his fangs and crouching in an attack position. And then he stops when he realises it's just me. "Caroline." He breathes out. Without waiting for him to say anything else, I leap up and rush into his arms. He folds me into his almost immediately. I don't know how he knows I'm on the verge of tears, but he strokes my hair softly anyway.

And then I pull away. "What the hell happened?" My voice breaks into an octave previously unheard of. But I can't stop. "What was that mirror thing, and why did the sword and ground shake, and then it exploded and Bonnie – Oh God, _Bonnie_." If I wasn't crying before, I certainly am now. "What about Bonnie? The explosion – she's _human_!" I don't even know what I'm saying anymore, but I'm terrified. It's like someone's stuck an ice cold hand inside my body and is routinely squeezing my heart, and hard.

Stefan stops me, just as I'm about to launch into another fit of hysterics. His hands clasp around the sides of my face, and he leans in. "Caroline." I'm still sort of freaking out, but he's making hushing noises that are kind of comforting. "I don't know anymore more than you." He says frankly. "But I know we're going to be fine. Okay?"

"How?" I say, in this pathetic small voice.

He doesn't respond immediately. "We're here together, right? And that's enough to get us through this and anything else."

My breathing has slowed down considerably, enough for me to internally chastise myself for my minor moment of panic. "Right." I manage to say weakly, before sniffing. "Sorry."

He lets go of my face, but not before he brushes aside some of my tears. Well, if I'm going to be stuck somewhere, I'm glad it's with a friend. I step away, taking the time to appraise our surroundings. The woods we're in are quite thick, and while I can't see the moon anywhere in the sky, I'd hazard a guess and say it was sometime after midnight or so. So far as I can tell, the two of us are alone, save for some wild deer that are roaming perhaps fifty metres away.

I whip out my phone, and just as I expected, there's no signal. Whatever. I don't care if I have to walk the length of Australia, we're going to reach civilisation so I can at least _text_ someone to figure out what the hell happened.

I turn to Stefan, who is similarly looking around for any clues that might hint where we are. He apparently doesn't spot anything either. "I think we should get on the move." He says, glancing lightly around him. There's no hint of anxiety in his voice, and we'd both know if there was something in the general vicinity that might pose a threat, but I agree with him anyway.

"Which direction captain?" So, my attempt to lighten the situation is pathetic, but it earns me a smile. Besides, I can't pick one tree from the other, so me navigating is out of the question.

He nods in the direction of my left. "Seems as good as any."

I nod, and then we set off, full vamp speed ahead.

* * *

We must have been running for at least an hour when both of us stop suddenly. I don't know if he's hearing what I'm hearing, which is cause alone for concern, or whether he's stopped because I stopped. Either way – the noise is quiet, but unmistakable. Footsteps, through the undergrowth. Or should I say running steps? Regardless, the person making the noise is most decidedly not human, because no one but a supernatural (and a powerful one at that) moves quickly enough to be on our tails.

There's barely enough time to tell Stefan we've got a predator on our tail before the source appears from behind a tree. My brain registers who it is, but I can't completely comprehend it until Stefan speaks.

"Elijah." He murmurs. The Original is standing a metre or so a way, and as always his dark hair is falling elegantly into his dark eyes. Only that's where the similarities to the Elijah I know end. This guy is dressed weirdly, like renaissance weirdly, in a loose white shirt, and pants that look like a cross between leggings and pantaloons. What the hell is Elijah doing in the middle of woods looking like he's come from some weird costume party?

"You address me with familiarity vampire, yet I do not know you or your companion." He says, his face as devoid of emotion as ever.

I can only imagine the WTF look that must be crossing my face at this moment. "Elijah, it's Caroline." I smile at him. Maybe it's a momentary relapse in judgement. "And Stefan." I gesture to the other guy.

He looks between us for the moment, before his eyes stop on me. "I would remember your faces had we been previously introduced." He tilts his head upwards, simply staring at us as though there is nothing more to be said. And that's when I start to think that something is seriously wrong. I turn to Stefan, who is looking at him with an unfathomable expression on his face.

"What year is it?" Stefan asks, in a voice that seems almost hesitant.

"1687." Elijah responds.

I literally feel my heart, and my mouth for that matter, drop. _1687?_ As in, some three centuries before I even exist? That's impossible. Completely impossible. People don't just randomly skip through time like some Doctor Who special. He must be kidding, or something. I've never known Elijah to joke, but maybe he has some weird thing for Punk'd, and this is just his way of pulling our legs.

"This can't be happening." My breathing has sped up, for the second time that night, and I find myself turning to Stefan for reassurance that I haven't gone crazy.

He does no such thing. Instead, he focuses his attention on the other man. "Would you mind telling us where we are exactly?"

So wait – Stefan actually thinks this is all real?

"I would, actually." Elijah speaks as he casually flicks his hair. "Admittedly, you've piqued my curiosity with your bizarre clothing and apparent lack of knowledge. It is not, however, up to me to permit your residence within this area." He takes a step forward, and as confused and horrified as I am, I am positive I know what is about to happen.

But that doesn't mean I can stop him, even if I wanted to. He takes another smooth step, and then he's behind Stefan, easily snapping the guy's neck. He turns to me, the start of a scream erupts from my lips, and then black, again.

* * *

When I wake up, I'm splayed across some plush seat, in what I think must be a carriage. We're bumping along, and with every jolt another fragment of my memory comes back. _Oh shit._ It's 1687. Elijah snapped both of our necks, but not before neglecting to tell us something about 'permission' within the area. I don't even want to know what that could mean. As I gingerly touch my head, I realise that I'm not alone. The very original I've been thinking about is sitting opposite me, a frown on his face.

"You recovered quicker than I presumed." Elijah says as he crossed his hands in his lap. He's still dressed in those silly looking clothes. "Tell me, how old are you?"

For a second, I can't respond. This is just weird. "Eighteen."

He sighs. "And in vampire years?"

"About one year." Before he can ask another inane question, I start to speak again. "Where's Stefan?"

He ignores my question with a graceful flick of his hand. "You're remarkably controlled for so young a vampire."

"Well, I had a good teacher. Speaking of! Where is Stefan?" I ask, a little more purposefully.

Elijah looks out the window now. "In the carriage behind us." He obliges, before turning back to me. "I should inform you that, upon arrival into the city, I will present you and your friend to my brother. If he is feeling amiable, you will be allowed to stay."

"And if not?" I manage to squeak out.

There is no change in his expression when he says his next words. "Then he will kill you."

Not for the second time that day / night, my heart plummets. I think we can assume it was the spell with the sword that sent us here, but beyond that, the parameters are unknown to me. So if I die here, I might literally die. The brother Elijah speaks of can't be Finn, as some small voice in my head points out he's definitely got a dagger in his heart at this point in time, and there's no way Elijah would show this kind of deference to Kol. Which leaves Klaus as the one deciding our fate.

And, Klaus, _amiable_? We're screwed.

I swallow, and the growing knot of nerves in my stomach tightens. The only thing I can do at this moment is stare out the window, and try to get some idea of where we even are from the surroundings. Given that it's just plains and trees, there's probably not much hope, but I try anyway. Part of me is screaming for an escape attempt. But what good will that do? There's no way I can out-run or overpower him, so I'll probably just end up with a snapped neck again. Or worse. Even if current-day Elijah (or future Elijah, as I suppose I should start calling him) doesn't lose his temper often, there's no telling what this one could do.

Something like three hours pass by in flashes. Neither of us speaks again, although I was tempted quite a few times to probe him for more information. At one point, the carriage stops in a small village. Elijah gets out, although not before producing a dress, shoes and stockings that all look like they belong to a peasant girl. His instructions are plain; change clothes, don't try to escape, or I'll have to break your neck again. I oblige, simply because the fewer people who see us in jeans, the better. I wouldn't want to go starting some denim revolution centuries before the fabric has even been invented.

When the carriage stops for a second time, I look out the window to see a couple of buildings, and a river beyond that. Neither fact really screams any particular location. Elijah gets out of the carriage first, and offers me his hand. Gingerly, I take it.

And then I notice that the river isn't actually a river. It's a canal. And, despite never having been outside of Mystic Falls, I could pick this sight from anywhere, because it's been on my holiday wish list ever since I was seven.

"Welcome to Venice." Elijah murmurs from my side.

There aren't enough words to describe this city, especially at this time of day, when the ancient arches and roofs are beginning to bask in the first few rays of light that appear on the sunrise. Everything has some kind of ethereal glow to it. I look behind me, only to find Stefan with a similarly entranced look upon his face. He too, has changed into clothes more era-appropriate. Behind him stands a man – or should I say vampire, who is pretty much an Italian version of the Hulk.

"Time for a change in transport." Elijah commands, gesturing to a gondola that awaits a few metres away. The two of us are pushed forward by the Hulk, and we find ourselves seated in the plush little boat, staring at Elijah, who stares right back at me. He leans forward, his eyes growing sharper as though he's penetrating right through solid flesh. "I want you to push your hand inside your chest and grip your heart." It takes me a moment to realise that he's compelling me, only I've been sipping vervain daily for the past three months. So nothing happens. Perhaps I should have done it anyway, so as not to arouse suspicion, but too late for that now.

A flicker of supreme annoyance crosses his face, but he's careful to quickly appear stoic once more. "Well, I must say I'm surprised. No matter." He leans back in his seat. "Should either of you make an attempt to escape, I will have Alonzo here tear out the other one's heart." No matter how used I may be to Elijah's composed demeanor, it's still downright creepy to hear him issue death threats without so much as batting an eyelid. Then again, he's an _original_.

I glance at Stefan, who is also looking remarkably composed. I attempt to mimic this, but I have a feeling I look more constipated than anything else. The gondola begins to move across the Grand Canal, before weaving its way through some smaller ones. I can't stop myself from staring and just marveling at how seamlessly water meets marble.

And then the boat veers through massive gold gates that are held in place by a grand arch. My eyes fall upon this beautiful structure, a palace that could only belong to one person I know of, before we pull up to the edge of a courtyard. As we get out, I notice a woman standing at an entrance.

She is flawless, right from her long chestnut hair that falls in ringlets down one side, to the smirk that adorns her face when she spots us. She's dressed in a deep purple gown, and I don't need vampire sight to see that the diamonds around her neck are very much real. A familiar feeling of inferiority washes over me. No matter how much I think I've gotten over being the insecure, second choice kind of girl, she still manages to rear her head.

Maybe I'll never shake it.

Whatever. Right now, I've got more important things to worry about, like this girl, who Elijah addresses as Valeria, and her not so subtle undressing-with-the-eyes of Stefan. A fierce defensiveness swells. Stefan is taken, by my best friend no less. Super-bitch-model has another thing coming if she thinks she's going to get her painted nails on him.

The Hulk is prodding me in the back. Scowling, I move forward. Elijah leads us through some fancy hallways. We're entering another room, heading in the direction of two large doors that have guards either side, when the noise first sounds.

Moaning. Someone's either dying a really slow death, or experiencing … well, you get the idea.

Without a word, the guards either side push the doors open. I am not prepared for the sight that greets me; a woman, sitting on a table, her chest completely exposed, clearly in absolute rapture as a man moves between her legs. Not just any man though. I'd recognise those dark blonde curls anywhere.

"Brother." Elijah calls out, and Klaus ceases his ministrations. He stands and turns, wiping a small amount of blood from the corner of his mouth. He waves a hand, and the maid quickly adjusts her dress so she's no longer pretty much naked, before scurrying out of the room.

A tinkling laugh sounds behind me, and Valerwhatever sashays past the pair of us. "Oh, I wanted to have fun with her." She's pouting. _Ugh._ When she reaches Klaus, she pulls him down for a long kiss, and to my disgust Klaus appears to enjoy it. I make a point of staring at the intricate carvings on the pillars. If these are going to be my last few minutes alive, I'd rather look at the architecture than some bitch sucking off the hybrid's face.

Elijah coughs, and the pair break apart.

"So, why the disturbance? Brought me some new toys?" Klaus asks as his eyes land on us, a smirk playing on his face. I have to remind myself that this is not the same man who's saved my life, no matter how familiar his dark blue eyes are.

"They were wandering through forest just inside our borders." Elijah neglects to mention the fact that we called him by his first name. Or our weird clothing. Or even that I resisted compulsion. If we make it through this, I'll think about the why's then. For now, my mind is racing a million miles a minute, trying to come up with a solution to this.

"Ah." Klaus takes another step forward, disentangling himself from the other vampire. His eyes wander first to me, starting from my face, all the way down to my legs. He makes no effort to hide the lust that courses across his features, and it's enough to make me glare at him, which in turn makes him smirk even more.

His eyes wander to Stefan, and the analysis is much briefer. Without any indication he's made up his mind, he turns around, and saunters up a platform, which holds a throne. Of course he's got some freaking solid gold chair to lounge on.

"Keep the girl, kill the boy." He says suddenly and as calmly as if he was ordering his dinner.

"No!" The strangled word erupts from my mouth, my fangs rear, and without thinking I round on Alonzo, who was presumably about to rip out Stefan's heart. Taking advantage of his surprise, I whip around to his back, snapping his neck in the process. Next is Valeria, who has charged forward. I manage to get a good kick to her stomach before she sends me flying with a single slap, and then my arms are pinned behind my back, presumably by Elijah. The bitch has got Stefan likewise within her grasp.

Klaus strides forward, smirk no longer in place. I can't move a single inch, but I don't regret what I did. Stefan and I are in this together, so if my attack means I am also dead, so be it.

When he reaches me, his hand comes up to grip my chin, and I meet his hostile stare defiantly. "Who are you, little vampire?" He asks, tilting his head to side.

"Someone who's not afraid of you." I respond. How cliched of me. There isn't a single waver in my voice, although internally I'm almost pissing my pants. I think I hear Stefan groan, but I can't be sure.

"Evidently." Klaus smiles without any real warmth. He looks back to Stefan, as though once more trying to assess the appeal of keeping him alive. "Is this boy your lover?" He turns back to me. I have to literally suppress a shiver that starts when his lips form that last word. _Down Caroline!_

I'm glaring at him again. "He's my best friend." I swallow before I say the next part. "So if you plan to kill him then you'll have to kill me as well."

He laughs. "But what a shame that would be!" His chuckles die down, and he takes a step backwards. A sigh escapes from his lips – a _sigh_? "Fine, spare both of them. If nothing else it will entertain Valeria." He drawls. Elijah releases his hold on me, and I resentfully push him away at the same time. The other girl also lets Stefan go, but not before stroking his cheek predatorily. I have to swallow another somewhat violent reaction – we've been _allowed_ to live, now is not the time to attack another part of Klaus's entourage.

Speaking of – the Original calls for another bodyguard. This one isn't built the same as Alonzo, but he looks equally fierce. "Escort this pair to the guest bedrooms in the west wing, and make sure they are properly detained."

_Detained_? I freeze at the word. But then Stefan is at my side, grasping my arm, and I know exactly what he would say. Don't.

So I refrain from another outburst, and we walk from the room. The bodyguard is soon joined by another, so one stands in front of us, the other behind. I can't help think that we could take the pair of them if we tried, but the more rational section of my brain says that Klaus will not be nearly as lenient the second time round. We walk up a few flights of stairs, and across a foyer before we reach what I presume is the west wing. There's two doors adjacent one another. I am prompted through one, while Stefan is prompted through the other. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the two bodyguards will be stationed just outside.

Great.

Confinement aside, it's an amazing room. The ceiling is high, with carvings that stretch along the edges and corners. Everything from the gilded bed frames to the vanity oozes opulence and wealth. Maybe it is a little too much, but this is Venice, this is the renaissance. Best of all are the double doors that open to a small veranda overlooking the canal below and the rooftops of Venice. As I open them and step out, a small breeze catches, and I breathe in the air wistfully.

Something moves in my peripheral beneath me – another guard. Klaus must have some kind of patrol set up around the palace, so I suppose this terrace is out of the escape equation. But that doesn't mean it can't still be useful, I think as I spot another balcony to my left. Undoubtedly, it leads into Stefan's room.

I smirk to myself. So the Original isn't in control of as much as he'd like.

I'll try to contact Stefan later. For now, the exquisite bed beckons.

* * *

**What did you think? I have to admit, ever since watching that Doctor Who episode in which they go to Venice to discover it being terrorised by vampires, I've always wanted to do something like that in the TVD universe. I've been googling stuff about the 17th century so I get things as accurate as possible, but if you think anything is wrong please let me know!****  
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**Also, I haven't completely decided on the main ~conflict, if you like. I know that the hunters / cure / Silas (potentially) are going to be a big part, but in terms of smaller side plots, would you prefer to see Mikael + Esther, or Klaus attempting to break the sun and moon curse? Or werewolves? Give me your thoughts.  
**

**As always, follow me on tumblr? I'm gloriousforbes there too 8)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**You guys are the best. Seriously, your feedback is amazing.**

**Couple of things:  
- The start of this chapter is (obviously) set back in Mystic Falls. Sorry if it gets a bit confusing there!**  
**- I'm not exactly a fan of Elena, which is why I've literally glossed over her hallucinations. Suffice to say, Jeremy was 'awakened' as a potential hunter, and now she's fine and dandy**  
**- Without giving too much away, the reason Caroline is ~strong in one particular section is simply because of practise, and also because - well, we know she's got awesome self control.**

**DISCLAIMER: None of this belongs to me, except a couple of vampires mentioned here and there.**

* * *

Bonnie gasped. And shot up. She sat there, in utter confusion, waiting for things to make sense. Only they didn't. She was in some kind of cell, which looked vaguely familiar, and there was a table with candles, which didn't look familiar at all. There was a kind of throb going on in her head, the kind of migraine that wasn't caused by anything physical or mental. No, she realised as dread descended on her stomach, the headache screamed magical interference.

Which meant that she had been doing a spell when she was knocked out.

Groaning, she stood up. Her eyes flitted to her right, where she spotted a previously unseen sword amongst the candles. Something clicked in that moment – sword, spell, search, cure. Only something had gone wrong at step two, and now –

Her eyes widened as she frantically spun around. Where were Caroline and Stefan? Clapping a hand to her mouth, she rushed from the room, and up some stairs. Bursting through the door at the top of them, she realised she was in the Salvatore boarding house, which explained the underground cellar.

"Caroline? Stefan?" Her voice hitched. There was no response, and she knew better than to hope that they simply hadn't _heard_ her, because they were vampires for God's sake. Nevertheless, she raced around the house. Her panic grew with every second that passed without a flash of blond curls or brooding eyebrows. When she reached the living room, she sunk down on a couch, her head in her hands. The tears came in floods.

_How could this have happened?_ No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many precautions she'd taken, things still went wrong, and it was all her fault. Not for the first time, she wished she was just some ordinary girl – maybe then she and her friends would be spared from countless tragedies.

The sound of laughter filled her ears. When she cautiously looked up though, it was only Elena and Damon walking through the door. Bonnie stood up, and their faces immediately dropped when they took in her disheveled appearance and tear streaked face.

"Elena." She whispered. "I messed up."

And then she was sobbing again as the other girl pulled her into a hug.

* * *

She hadn't known where to start. Everything was so convoluted, and half the things she knew she wasn't supposed to know, at least, Klaus hadn't wanted her to know. But she couldn't quite frankly care less about the hybrid right now. If he hadn't wanted to involve Jeremy, none of this would have happened, she was sure of it.

To begin with, neither Elena nor Damon believed her. And even when she'd showed them the sword and explained about hunter's tattoos, they still were at a loss as to how Stefan and Caroline had gotten involved. And upset too – predictably, both of them had wanted to know why they'd never been consulted. Bonnie didn't really have the energy to lie to them, so she'd simply told them the truth; this cure was going to be for Elena, and the less people that knew about it, the better. Of course, she was beginning to think that _not_ telling them had also been a stupid idea – since when do secrets stay a secret in Mystic Falls? That being said, she wasn't going to tell Klaus. Stefan and Caroline were his past and current obsessions, so she doubted he'd be thrilled to find out she'd lost them.

On top of that, she'd need to find an opportunity to swap the swords back, assuming of course that the Hybrid hadn't already figured out that the one in his possession was a fake.

"Bonnie?" Elena's voice called her back to the present. The other girl was sitting opposite her, and between the two of them was a couple of grimoires. Bonnie might have laughed at the irony and symmetry of the situation, except there was nothing really funny about it at all.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Elena spoke again, her dark eyes only slightly blaming.

Bonnie sighed. "Klaus forbid it, and it kind of made sense. I mean, you'd only just become a vampire, and you had stuff to deal with, and – honestly? I didn't want you to get your hopes up." She finished, shrugging.

Elena faltered. "So everyone was just going to keep it some secret from me until the end?" She ran a hand over her forehead, tucking aside some hair behind her ear.

"Not everyone." Bonnie said, as neutrally as possible. "The only people who knew were Klaus, Stefan, Caroline and me. And Rebekah, but that's a different story." Elena was still frowning, and staring off into space. "If it helps, Stefan wanted to tell you." She added on.

"But he didn't. He doesn't trust me." She looked away, although not before Bonnie spotted tears pooling in her eyes.

"Elena." She started, but words got stuck in her throat. It's not that she didn't know what to say, she didn't know how to say it. No, really, how? _How_ could she tell her best friend that she wasn't the only person who deserved the cure? It wasn't even like she was using the abstract here – she was thinking of her mother, and the look on Abby's face when she realised she'd lost her magic. "Look, this isn't about you."

The other girl's gazed whipped back around to her, only she didn't say anything.

Bonnie swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. "I want this cure for you, I do, but this doesn't just affect us in Mystic Falls anymore."

A single tear dropped from the corner of Elena's eye. "I don't know what to think anymore." More tears began to fall. "And now Stefan and Caroline are gone, and you're telling me it's because of this cure that may or may not exist and –" She broke off, no longer even attempting to contain her crying. Bonnie immediately crossed over and sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

The pair of them sat like that for a few more minutes, before Damon made a reappearance. He surveyed the two girls for a moment, before promptly fetching himself a glass of some kind of alcohol. "Hate to break up your girl-on-girl bonding, but I think we should make a start on finding a way to get back Blondie and my brother."

Elena nodded, and Bonnie let go of the other girl. The doorbell rung, just as they'd begun to crack open a few of the more sturdy books.

"I'll get it." Bonnie murmured as she stood up, making her way towards the entrance of the house. When she swung it open, she found herself staring at an attractive older man, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a small amount of stubble. He had a calming presence to him.

"You're Bonnie, right?" The guy smiled, holding out a hand. "I'm Atticus Shane. You called?"

Ah, that would explain the sense of comfort. "That's me, and I did." She breathed out. "I kind of need your help."

* * *

Only a few hours have past since I flopped on to the bed. I didn't bother getting changed out of the dress, as gross as it is, mainly because the alternative was nudity. And I really didn't trust anyone in this palace beside Stefan to not waltz in unannounced. As it is, my quick search of the room early was fruitless when it came to anything that I could use as a weapon. So instead, I lie on the bed, staring at the drapings above.

My mind wanders back to Mystic Falls, and something painful clenches in my heart. I wished it was as simple as getting back to _where_ home was, not _when_ as well. Because I miss them all, Elena, Bonnie, Matt, Jeremy, even Damon and his quips. Hell, I even miss Tyler. It's for them that I need to get back. And I'm worried about Bonnie – I don't actually think she could have died from the explosion, given it looked like she was being used by the witch spirits in that moment, and they wouldn't let her die. What if she was seriously injured though? There was literally no one besides Stefan and I that knew of the plan, so how were they going to find her? And when they did, what would she tell them?

On top of that – I don't know how else to put this – I'm freaking _terrified_ of the fact that we've met two of the Originals now, and what this will mean for the future. Are the repercussions already being felt? Will anything have changed? And if it has – what if it's for the worse?

Too many questions.

There's a timid knock on my door. I sit up, and narrow my eyes, although I'm kind of pleased that whoever is one the other side of the door clearly has manners.

"Come in." I call out, and the door swings open to admit a small girl into my room. She very pointedly looks anywhere but at me, instead shuffling closer to deposit a box on my bed. Without needing to open it, I roll my eyes. It just _reeks_ of the Original Hybrid.

"Master Klaus wants you to wear to dinner." She speaks in a heavy Italian accent as she gestures to the box.

I'm tempted to say how _disinclined I am to acquiesce to his request_, but she wouldn't get the reference. And she'd probably end up being punished by Klaus as well. So I lift the lid.

Okay, so it's a pretty dress. It's pale yellow, with delicate white lace sown into the bodice and sleeves, and probably the kind of thing seen on a princess, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Must be a Klaus thing, attempting to buy off everyone.

The girl watches my face. "Bath." She says suddenly. I'm not sure how cleaning works in the 17th century, but there's no way I'm passing up on an opportunity to get the grime off my body. So I let her prod me off the bed and out the door. When we start to walk down the corridor, one of the guards follows us. It's only a short trip to the bath room, but I can feel myself getting lost in the maze of rooms and corridors.

The guard waits outside, and she ushers me in. There's a steaming bath just waiting; it almost makes me salivate. Completely qualm less, the girl pulls at my dress, and I tug it over my head. Regardless of the fact that this girl is clearly not some perverted vampire, I get into the tub pretty quickly.

I let myself sink downwards, soaking in the searing liquid. The actual water itself is slightly scented, and next to me on an elegant stool is what I presume is soap. I lather it between my hands, and the soft smell of rose permeates the air.

I don't bother with making a quick trip of it – in fact, I spend as much time as I can in the bath, until the water is only lukewarm. Regardless of how nice it is to relax, I don't really want to marinate in my own filth. When I get out, the girl wraps a towel around me, before turning and facing the door. I hastily dry my body with the towel. The girl produces a simple dress that will have to suffice for the trip between this room and mine. It's so ridiculously flimsy though, and no one has been kind enough to provide underwear – or maybe this dress _is_ supposed to be just that? I suppress a shudder as we walk from the room.

There's still a guard waiting outside Stefan's room, so I clearly won't be able to talk to him any time soon. Instead, I'm ushered into mine, and promptly prodded into standing still in the centre. She sets to work around me – there's another layer of dress, and then a corset, and one final layer. Don't get me wrong, I love dressing up, but the real life mannequin thing gets really old, really quickly.

I watch the sun go down outside my window, which would mean that dinner is soon. Which would explain why the girl is making such a fuss of my hair.

"I can do it." I say, politely, as she makes some noise that doesn't sound encouraging.

She looks at me, almost haughtily, but nevertheless leaves the room. Breathing a sigh of relief, I set myself down at the vanity. There's probably not much to be done about my hair, unless hair curlers were invented a lot earlier than I'd thought. I decide to just leave it as it is, in soft waves. And screw make up. In my human life I used to cling to the stuff as a Venetian would cling to their mask (see what I did there), maybe because I thought of it as just that – something to hide behind. Something to make me prettier. But my skin has never been as good as it is now that I'm a vampire, and I'm not going to swallow my pride and ask for the maid back to show me what the 17th century version of mascara is.

I have to wait for another half an hour or so before the girl comes in to get me, and all of those thirty minutes are spent considering whether I should go down at all. The defiant part of me, the part that belongs in the future, insists that I demonstrate to Klaus and whoever else that I'm not some toy that can be tossed around for amusement before finally being disposed of. But that same part of me is the girl who thinks that Klaus isn't _all_ bad, and it's becoming clearer that I need to suspend that belief. It's not 2o12, it's 1687. Which means Klaus's wolf side is still dormant, so he's probably a lot more volatile.

In the end, I drag myself along.

I'm accompanied the entire way down to the dining hall – at least now I know how celebrities feel when they've got people shadowing them all the time. Albeit, my shadows probably have orders to kill me if I try anything, but I'll make do with what I can.

When we reach what I presume are the doors to the hall, the guards open the doors again. I notice immediately that Stefan is there, along with a couple of other vampires. Bitchy Valeria is present, and standing on her right is a man who is obviously closely related to her; they share the same chestnut coloured locks, and he's just as devastatingly handsome. The only other people I recognise are Elijah, who smiles politely at me, and Klaus, who is too busy reclining on his seat at the head of the table and staring at Valeria to notice.

The seat next to Stefan is the only one free. It also happens to be next to Klaus, but whatever. At least I can avoid looking directly at him if I wish.

When I sit down, Klaus's gaze switches to me. He speaks, his voice low and somewhat condescending. "You two children have not told me your names."

Um, _excuse me? _Children? Seriously? Stupid million-year-old gigolo.

Stefan responds for us, probably aware of the fact that I'm spewing profanities in my head. "This is Caroline Forbes, and I'm Stefan Salvatore."

Klaus's eyebrows quirk upwards at this. "Salvatore, you say?" Slowly, his head turns to his brother. I can't imagine why it would matter so much to either of them what Stefan's last name is, but I'm glad all the same his interest is diverted.

"And where exactly are you from?" Elijah speaks this time.

Stefan stiffens an infinitesimal amount – enough to let me know that whatever is about to come from his mouth, I shouldn't question it. "Quite a few places. But most recently, the new world." He's not saying anymore than necessary, I notice.

There are no more questions for a bit, at least not from either Original. Elijah, gentleman that he is, introduces us to the rest of our company; the man sitting next to Valeria is her twin brother Vincenzo (_Why do twins names always start with the same letter?_), and further down the table are Leon, Abigail and Nathaniel. From what I can gather, I'm the only vampire here not to have lived past a century. Hence, the constant snide remarks about my age.

Fidgeting, I pick a piece of bread from a basket in front of me, and begin to nibble it delicately. Elijah is watching me curiously, and it's only then that I notice no one else has even bothered to touch the bread or sumptuously prepared meat. I shouldn't be surprised by that, just as I shouldn't feel sick when the 'real' dinner arrives; two dozen or so humans file in, ranging from all ages to all sizes. They stand against the wall, almost like some serve-yourself buffet.

It's repulsive, but that's not the worst of it.

The worst thing is that I haven't _eaten_ eaten in days.

The other vampires have stood up, matching gleeful smiles on their faces. The saunter in between the humans, touching and teasing as they please – but there is nothing so light hearted about it. Abigail, another beauty with dark red hair and dark red lips, is the first to decide. She pulls a boy, no older than sixteen, and within seconds she is ravishing his neck. A trail of blood leaks down his collarbone. The light catches it, and there's a moment when my bestial side takes control. It's so rich, so smooth, like velvet in a drop of human. The veins around my eyes must be popping out, just like my fangs.

One bite won't hurt.

"Stefan." I whisper, swallowing. The bloodlust only slightly dissipates. In, out, nothing helps. I turn around to him, and he's looking just as in agony as I am. This will be worse for him. Growling, I do the only thing I can think of: I slam into him, and the pair of us fly backwards, before hitting the wall. Stefan is staring at me, breathing heavily.

"Don't." I manage to get out, before someone wrenches me around. Klaus is standing there with an amused expression on his face. The grip he has on my arm is tight, but I'm more concerned about the fact that Stefan now has a clear shot at the humans.

Klaus speaks. "Why don't you join us?" It's not really a question, it's an accusation.

Now that I'm further away, a little more clarity returns to my mind. I scoff, and very surreptitiously move my body to at least block some part of Stefan. "What can I say, human _a la carte_ isn't really my style."

He tilts his head, mockingly. "Allow me, then." Letting go of my arm, he beckons a young man forward. The human doesn't look terrified at all, but I'd say that's more because he's compelled. Klaus pulls the boy towards us, and without waiting literally tears at the flesh on his wrist. The blood spurts, a steady stream. And the smell – Oh God, _the smell_. Imagine your favourite food, condensed down to its essence and then laid right in front of your eyes. You'd be crazy not to take up the devil on that offer.

I bite my tongue, pressing my lips even closer together to stop a predator growl. This is agony, but a different kind then anything else. This kind of pain is the one you know you have to endure, regardless of relief being within your grasp. Because to give in is far worse.

But I'm _starving_.

I'm being too self absorbed – a fact that hits me at the worst time. Stefan moves an impossible speed, until he's standing next to the young man. There is a single second of time, in which he meets my gaze – I can see the hunger physically taking hold, just as a sliver of remorse disappears. He bites into the wrist. The Original is positively smirking as he eyes Stefan, who is well and truly within the grips of bloodlust.

Klaus then turns and comes closer to me. I take a step away, but he moves in again, until my back is against the wall. I try to ignore the blood that languidly drips from the corner of his mouth. "What makes you think you're stronger than our very nature?" He murmurs. He's too close. I can smell the blood, I can smell him.

I swallow. "Your nature, not mine." My eyes wander over to Stefan. He's stopped drinking from the young man, but he's looking at his blood soaked hands, a horrified expression on his face. This is not good.

Klaus chuckles quietly, before tilting his head. His hand comes to rest up on the wall beside my face, effectively trapping me. "You're doing an excellent job of controlling it, sweetheart, especially when one takes into account your youth. But eventually, you'll give in. We feed on humanity, we do not feel it." His eyes probe mine, as though daring me to disagree.

Which I do of course. "Well unfortunately for you, I was one hell of a control freak before I turned." I slap his arm away from my side. "So tempting me over to your stupid dark side isn't going to work."

He smirks again. Stefan has come over to me, seemingly taking advantage of Klaus's silence, and he's pulling me away. Klaus doesn't speak again, which has more to do with the fact that his expression says enough; _for now_, those dark blue eyes whisper. He doesn't stop staring, not even when he pulls the human from before closer to latch on to his neck. Not even when a partially naked Valeria begins to tug at his clothes. No, his eyes carry all the way back to my prison-cell-room.

* * *

I can't sleep that night, not when I know that a slaughter is taking place downstairs. Every time I close my eyes, the emotionless faces of those humans, those now dead humans burn their way through the recesses of my skull. At some point, I pull myself out of bed and begin to pace my room. The air is stifling though – or maybe it's just me stifling myself – so I walk out on to the balcony. Now is as good a time as ever to test the laws of physics between my veranda and Stefan's.

I pull myself up on to the balustrade, but not before glancing down to check whether the guard is still waiting on the perimeter. But there's no one. So I leap across.

My landing goes smoothly, not that I'm surprised by that though. The stupid doors don't open from the outside, so I have to tap my fingers against the glass for a few seconds before Stefan's face appears. He lets me in.

"Are you okay?" I ask almost immediately.

He sits back on his bed, quietly. If he's shocked that I'm here, he doesn't show it; he just stares at his hands. I notice that the blood has gone now, but I'm guessing the very image of it is enough to torture him for a while. When he doesn't say anything else, I speak. "It wasn't your fault, you know. You were hungry and –"

"So were you." He says, looking up at me. "I don't see you with blood on your hands."

"That's because I was distracted. I wanted to drink too, believe me." I walk over to him and sit down on the bed as well. "You didn't kill him." I add on, because that's something, right?

He snorts mirthlessly. "No, I just fed on him."

We've talked about this before. But that had always been a pre-emptive conversation, the kind of thing you said in anticipation of going over the edge. "I'm sorry. I made you a promise that I wouldn't let you lose control, and tonight I didn't do that."

He's shaking his head, frowning. "It shouldn't be up to you. This is my problem."

"Technically, it's our problem now." I say, flicking some hair off my face. "And even if it wasn't, you think I'm just going to let you go off the rails? You know me better than that." I nudge my shoulder against his, and the flicker of a smile returns to his face. "We can have our own reform group, or something."

"What – ripper's anonymous?" Again with the despondent laugh.

I shrug nonchalantly. "I've heard worse."

We sit in silence for a few more minutes, but it's not uncomfortable in the slightest. "We'll be fine Stef. Even if it means going on the Twilight-vegetarian-diet, we'll be fine." I shrug one of my arms around his shoulder. I don't relish eating bunnies for however long we're stuck here, but it's not like we can pop down to the local physician and ask for a pint of B+.

"Thankyou." He says quietly, and I smile in response.

"Now, what are we going to do about Elijah?" I ask, moving swiftly on to the next pressing topic. "I mean, he's seen us in future clothes, we both recognised him, and he knows that I at least can't be compelled."

Stefan folds his hands together. "I don't know."

I blow out some air, groaning partially. "Well it's not like we can just tell him we're from the future, right?" My face turns to his, and he looks back.

"Got any better ideas?" He asks.

"The problem is, if they don't believe us, they can easily just compel us to tell the truth."

He tilts his head. "But only once the vervain is out of our system."

I sigh, and go back to staring at the wall. "How long have we got?"

"At most, three days."

"Great. Three days to come up with a feasible lie as to why we're here with intimate knowledge of the originals and make it convincing enough that they won't bother to compel the truth out of us." I slouch down even further into the bed. Alternatively, we tell them the truth, which will undoubtedly result in Klaus compelling everything we know out of our systems. It's pretty shit either way you look at it.

"Or we just tell them the truth." Stefan voices my thoughts. We sit there in silence for a couple more minutes. I know this problem isn't going to solve itself, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to give it a rest. And I might as well – the night is not getting any younger, but I seem to be getting more tired. And who knows? Maybe sleep will provide me with answers.

"We'll sort this out tomorrow." I push myself up from the bed and walk to the window. "For now, let's go to bed." I put my hands on my hips. "Sleep kills your appetite, you know."

He's smiling back; my job is done. Quickly, I shimmy out on to the terrace, and within seconds I am back in my own bed.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! Follow me on tumblr gloriousforbes for stuff as well 8)**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm really sorry about how overdue this chapter is - things got a bit hectic and I didn't have much muse. To make up for the million and one years in between the last chapter and this, this one is extra long. And it might be slightly info-dump-y, so I also apologise for that. Hopefully, you like where the story is headed!**

**Quick note - my sister pointed out to me that Caroline keeps referring to Klaus as a hybrid, when he's technically not one yet. I realise this, it's just I imagine she thought of him as one and never bothered to correct herself.**

**Again, massively sorry for how much I suck at updating, but here we go. 8)**

**DISCLAIMER: Don't own a single thing, boohoo.**

* * *

So, you'd think that hopping into bed with your enemy was a bad idea, right? So what about sitting down for a polite morning tea – that's still kind of stupid, isn't it?

Still, I sit there, hands folded in my lap, my back rigid against the chair, an emotionless expression on my face. Internally, it's a different story; I'm in a full Caroline Forbes sulk mood, which has everything to do with last night and the realisation this morning that we were still stuck in the past. On top of that, we don't have an alibi. It would get a lot worse if I was to speak, but Stefan and I both agreed prior to this that my scathing remarks should be kept to a minimum. Which is a lot harder than I anticipated, but so far, so good.

The Original brothers had requested our company at brunch for a little 'chat,' and when two of the oldest vampires alive ask for something, you pretty much have to do it. Not unprepared though.

"Salvatore. That's Italian, am I correct?" Elijah is the first of the four of us to speak, and he takes a delicate sip of his tea. Klaus, on the other hand, is reclining on a love seat on drinking something that smells strongly like scotch from a wine glass – some things never change.

Stefan is nodding. "My ancestors were from Florence."

Elijah continues the conversation. "And do you have any relatives in Venice?"

Stefan takes a drink from his own glass, shrugging. "Not that I'm aware of."

Neither Elijah nor Klaus react to this aside from a single glance shared. Elijah changes the subject. "You were wearing quite odd clothing when I first encountered you." He raises his eyebrows mildly. "Some new trend we are unaware of, perhaps?"

"Something like that." Stefan responds, stiffly.

Elijah smiles. Inside, I'm freaking out again. People like Elijah don't smile like that unless they are pleased about something – and something tells me that _something_ isn't all that pleasant.

"So tell me, how did we meet?" Elijah asks calmly.

"It was only in passing." Stefan goes for blasé – maybe we can convince him that he's simply forgotten.

"Still, I think I would have remembered." Elijah says. Maybe not, then.

Time for damage control, or rather, me creating more damage but drawing attention away from the current ruin of our excuse. "Can we cut the crap please?" I say loudly. For a few seconds, no one really speaks – probably because only half the people in this room even know what crap means. But then Stefan stands up.

"Caroline." He murmurs in that please-be-rational voice. "A word."

I roll my eyes, but join him in the corner of the room, our backs faced towards the other vampires. Without much prompting, Stefan starts to brood. It looks so genuine, I almost forget this entire part is for show.

"What exactly are you doing?" He folds his arms across his chest, his voice low.

I'm still scowling. "Do they look convinced to you?" I attempt my best queen bitch voice, which includes hands on hips. But I'm hardly selling our little faux-fight, so I opt for no-negotiations tone. "Either we tell them what's really going on, or they force the truth out of us!" I hiss, before composing myself. I'm constantly aware of a pair of eyes on the back of my head, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out who they belong to.

Stefan stares at me, and his hand comes to rest on my arm. He goes to say something else, but then his eyes stretch beyond me and back to the Originals, who are no doubt listening in rapture to our conversations. I take advantage of his silence, just as he'd have wanted me to.

"Trust me." I murmur reassuringly as I grasp his hand.

He swallows, and then he nods surreptitiously. It's the only signal I need. Then he lets go of my arm and walks back to his chair. I follow, and the pair of us descend back into the hot-seats. I expel some air and stare the older Original straight in the eyes. "You want the truth, right?" I raise my eyebrows.

The pair of brothers share another look, and from whatever weird telepathic conversation they're having, they reach agreement. Elijah nods.

"We were cursed." I say flatly.

Klaus glances at us, only mildly curious. I can't tell if his indifference is just a ruse while he internally schemes, or whether he literally could not care less. Elijah, however, leans forward further in his seat. Having gotten both mens' attention, I continue. "We angered a witch, and she put a spell on us. It destroyed our village, we wound up unconscious, and then we woke up in that forest, okay?"

"Is that all?" Elijah asks.

I have to suppress the urge to roll my eyes again. "That's all."

"And how exactly do you explain your inability to be compelled?" Elijah fires back. Judging by the lack of surprise on his brother's face, I have no doubt they've been putting their heads together, thinking up God knows what kind of nefarious plans. Klaus drills both of us with a stare that's probably meant to make us flinch. Only I've seen plenty of them in my life time.

"Part of the spell was us being shot full of vervain." The muscles in my face tighten, and I'm not entirely acting. Needless to say, the memory of vervain-themed torture is still something of a sore spot. "It will probably have lasting affects." I add on.

"How convenient." Klaus says mockingly.

I share a glance with Stefan, before clearing my throat. "Your turn." Perhaps unintentionally, I lean back and assume a superior stance. "Why all the questions about Stefan's heritage?"

Klaus shrugs. "Curiosity." He only has to say the one word for me to get the don't-press-the-topic vibe, but what can I say, _curiosity_ gets the better of me.

"How specific." I mimic his voice, right down to the lazy smirk. "So, this is just routine; all new arrivals are interrogated, is that what you're saying?"

He takes another drink, his eyes never leaving mine, not once. "Was their some other kind of preferential treatment you had in mind?" Lazily, he licks his lips.

I have to remind myself to swallow, and breathe, and swallow. I've been given the perfect opportunity to barter, not melt into a pool of lust and heated flesh. "Well, some fresh air would be nice." I say with a touch of snark. Just because I'm being Miss Negotiate doesn't mean I'll be sweet about it.

Klaus smirks. "Tiring of us so soon, sweetheart?"

I grit my teeth, but Elijah mercifully interjects before I spit fire. "I'm afraid that won't be entirely possible." Always the diplomatic one, he at least has the grace to look apologetic.

"Why not?" Stefan asks. I kind of dread the answer.

"Well, we can't have you two and your intimate knowledge of us floundering around the city." Elijah responds, folding his hands in his lap. He begins to inspect his fingernails, like he hasn't just sentenced us to imprisonment.

I frown, not least because of this latest news – no, it's more to do with the fact that they have clearly got more than just captivity planned. If us knowing so much is as damaging as they say, why not just kill us? _Not that I'm advocating our slaughter_ – but we're either of no concern to them, or part of some bigger plot. Knowing Klaus, it would be the latter.

Wiping the frown off my face, I resume being neutral. "It wouldn't be in the city. The woods just inside your borders would be fine." I share a look with Stefan. "We'd even agree to it being supervised."

Klaus smiles slyly. "And in return?"

I swallow. There's nothing I can offer him, at least, nothing I'd be _willing_ to. Then again, this isn't about me. This is about making sure we survive long enough to figure out why we're here, and more importantly, how to get back. Which means I can't be selfish, no matter how much I want to tell Klaus that I won't give in to his wishes that easily.

But then I don't have to. Stefan steps in.

"Information." He says, as he takes a drink. There's a gradual cloud that stretches across his face, as though he had hoped to avoid whatever comes next but can no longer do so. "I can only assume that your interest in my family has something to do with Marco Salvatore."

The Originals immediately stiffen, their eyes no longer jesting. The change in dynamic is so imperceptible I think only a vampire might notice it. I'm about as lost as I was when we first got here, but this name obviously means something to them.

"What do you know of that man?" Elijah asks in a controlled voice.

"Enough." Stefan says. I try not to look like a goldfish, mouth open and wondering what the hell is going on. It wouldn't matter though, as now both Klaus and Elijah are fixated on Stefan. For a few moments, it's nothing but some alpha male staring match (_maybe they should get a room for this?_) but then Klaus leans back in his seat, a smirk once more in place.

"The conditions, then?" He asks.

"Caroline and I are allowed to go into the forest whenever we like," Stefan states, "And we need to see a witch."

"Presumably to remove any latent effects of the spell." Elijah is nodding in agreement, which is as good a sign as any. "And in return, full complicity regarding Marco Salvatore. Agreed?"

Stefan nods, just as Klaus abruptly stands up. I half expected them to pinkie promise, but no such thing happens. I have a feeling that the threat alone of an irate Original is enough to deter anyone from going back on a deal made with the devil. As it is, I'm wondering what exactly we've gotten ourselves into.

"Well, now that we're all properly acquainted, perhaps a tour of the city?" Elijah asks, as he too stands, he hands clasped in front of him. How he manages to appear so effortlessly composed _all the time_ is beyond me.

A tour of the city is the last thing I feel like doing; right now, I want to grab Stefan, pull him into a room where no one can hear us and make him tell me everything there is to know about this Marco guy and why Klaus and Elijah are so interested. But non-compliance is probably not the best way to start out a semi-alliance, so I grit my teeth and nod. "That would be nice."

Elijah motions for the door, and the four of us leave. It's a relatively short trip back to the courtyard we first arrived in, and I spend all of it determinedly looking at the interior of the rooms we walk through. Everything is so decadent, with enough display of wealth to rival even the Doge's palace. Not that I've ever been there, but I can imagine fairly well. Of course, my daydreams of travel never once included _time_ travel, or a certain ridiculously attractive Original, or even plans to find a cure to what is now an integral part of who I am. Still, I'll take what I can get.

When we reach open water area, a gleaming black gondola is waiting. I am the first to get in – no mean feat in a 17th century dress, let me tell you – and quickly followed by Klaus. _Great._ Once we're all seated, the gondolier steers us out from the confines of the palace. The city is still as beautiful as I remember, only being the light of day there's plenty more people bustling through the streets. I have to wonder how many vampires exist here. A whole court, probably.

None of us talk while we're in the boat, and I'm actually kind of glad about that. I can almost pretend in those moments that this part of the world is still untouched by the things that are at the back of my mind; heavy things, things that make me swallow and worry.

The boat winds down through a few back canals, before pulling up next to an unassuming old building. Elijah gestures for me to get out, and I do so apprehensively, and with the assistance of the gondolier.

"Where are we?" I ask, ask the others pull themselves on to the sidewalk.

Klaus folds his arms across his chest. "You said you wanted a witch." He waves a hand in the direction of the door, before turning his attention to a group of giggling girls who sashay past him. Ugh, would it kill him to keep his murderous / sexual tendencies in check for an hour at the least?

Stefan joins me as we walk inside. It's slightly cooler, and there's a faint aroma of herbs and spices that dwells on everything from the jar-stocked shelves to the table which no doubt serves as a counter and ritual space. There's no one else inside, but I'm aware of a human presence somewhere within the house.

"Excuse me?" Stefan calls out. A few seconds later, a woman appears from behind a book case. She is shorter than both of us, with skin the colour of caramel, and dark curls that fall down around her neck. I'd estimate late-twenties, but you can never really tell with witches.

"Can I help you?" She asks, in a blunt voice. Her hands clasp behind her back as her eyes narrow in on our faces, but then she abruptly changes as she takes in something behind us. No longer detached, she scowls. "I distinctly recall telling you to stay away."

Klaus saunters forward. _Of course_ he's managed to piss off the resident witch. "Now, now, Evelyn, let's not alienate your guests." He pulls up next to her. "Besides, as _I_ remember correctly, I promised you a pardon from the sins of your mentor – shall I go back on that as well?" His face holds no hints of danger, in fact he's smiling, but the threat is there, present enough on his face.

Evelyn swallows. "What do you want?" She complies, albeit grudgingly, just as Elijah also enters the store.

Klaus smiles. "I would very much like it if you could reveal the nature of the spell that has been placed upon these two." He gestures towards us, all polite airs now.

The woman sighs, before looking back at us. "What can you tell me about the spell?" She folds her arms across her chest.

"Not much." I offer. "We were shot with vervain, and then the witch did some minor spell to create aneurisms, and after that…" I trail off, in what I hope is a convincing manner. "We woke up wearing odd clothing, and that was it."

Evelyn stares at me for a moment, her eyebrows bunched up. Clearly, she's not impressed by my lack of memory, but it's not like I'm going to mention any part of the truth.

"Do you have the clothes you were in?" She says finally with a huff.

I don't think Stefan or I had really counted on this – scratch that, we hadn't really planned anything, so the prospect of now having to present something that could tie us to the future was not something that filled me with hope. Regardless of the fact that both of us _had_ been spelled, it would take all of three seconds for Evelyn to do some voodoo on my jeans and figure out that a ) we were massive liars and b ) a potential problem for one Original pair of siblings. But what is there to do? Playing along, Stefan looks back to Elijah, who nods.

"I can recover them." He says smoothly, clasping his hands in front.

I turn back to Evelyn, who still doesn't look all that confident. "Well, until that time, there's not much I can do." She says, resolutely. I have to admire the fact that she's clearly not some pushover, even if it might make it more difficult to convince her not to reveal the truth to Klaus – if it comes to that.

"Anything would be appreciated at this point." Klaus drawls.

Evelyn sighs. "At most," She shoots the hybrid a glare, "I could inspect their minds for any lingering traces, but nothing will be absolute until I have a physical connection to the spell that was cast."

Elijah speaks. "Are they not enough?" He waves a hand in our general reaction.

"If they were, would I be asking for the clothes?" She retorts. I'm liking her more and more. She beckons me first, and I walk towards her. Gesturing for me to sit down on the table, she pulls some random herbs from the shelves, and sets them up in some mini pyre. Once she's lit them, she grabs my hand, her eyes fluttering to a close. Mine do the same of their own volition.

A minute passes, and nothing has happened. Internally, I'm searching for some kind of sign that she's found something and there's nothing –

Except a jolt. Small, not enough to even make me move, but it happened nevertheless.

My eyes fly open. Evelyn is staring at me, an unreadable expression on her face. Elijah, being infuriatingly observant, breaks the silence.

"Well, what did you find?"

She lets go of my hand, her face now blank. Then she turns her back to me, and I'm terrified that whatever comes next across her face or out of her mouth will completely expose us and there's literally nothing we can do to stop it. "Nothing." She says.

I start to breathe again.

"But the traces of vervain in her system aren't likely to disappear any time soon. In fact," She continues, turning back to me, "I think you may have finally found a vampire now unable to be compelled."

"Wonderful." Klaus growls.

I can't help it; I have to stifle a laugh behind my hand, and it quickly turns into a cough when I find the eyes of both brothers' looked on me. Regardless of how completely untrue Evelyn's words are, it doesn't hurt to have them think I'm beyond their mind control tricks.

Stefan is next. As she ushers him on to the table, I make a point of looking curiously at the shelves. My eyes land on a particular jar, and a memory of sorts comes back to me. In a single flash of vamp speed, I've got the jar and the object next to it nestled within the small bag adorned at my hip. Luckily, everyone else in the room is too transfixed with Stefan and Evelyn to notice. A few seconds later, the pair break out from the trance, and Evelyn confirms the same thing about Stefan. Elijah and Klaus share another of their secretive brother looks, but I can't even be bothered with translating. As it is, Klaus is half way out the door, probably intent on finding someone to eat and ease his annoyance. Elijah follows, and we fall into step.

"How long have you been Venice?" Evelyn speaks casually, as we step into the sunlight.

I look sideways at her. She's going to have to do better if that's her way of getting the truth out of me. "Not long." I shrug, turning back to the gondola.

"It's a beautiful city." She remarks, offhandedly. I huff as she sidesteps into my line of sight. Maybe I was too quick to pronounce her cool. "There's a rather picturesque bridge not too far from here – The Ponte Delle Guglie."

"Sounds nice, I'll see if I can visit it." I try to brush her off, but to no avail.

"You should." She's ridiculously insistent. Too insistent. Her eyes are drilling in to mine. "The view is most magnificent just after midnight."

Something stops me. "Midnight?"

She nods, her eyes now widening. As covertly as I can, I nod back.

And then Elijah is at my side before I even have the chance to clarify in my head what just happened. We retreat back on to the boat. Klaus is nowhere to be seen, not that I'm complaining about that. We take off, back in the general direction of the palace. I do my best to remember the route for later tonight, but navigation has never really been my forte. If all else fails, I'll just get directions from a local.

We arrive back at the courtyard, and Elijah promptly sets off again, although not before sagely issuing a warning of sorts; roam the mansion, but don't attempt to leave. Hotel California, anyone?

* * *

Once the gondola is out of sight with Elijah in it, the pair of us set off in the direction of our rooms. Instead of going in to them, however, I pull him into the nearby bathroom. With a finger to my lips, I pull out the jar from my bag. Stefan eyes it.

"Sage?" He asks quietly, when he spots the label, a puzzled look on his face.

I flash him a tentative grin. "Burn it and it supposed to give you secrecy, or something." I pull out the tinter box that I also grabbed, and set about lighting the herb. There's a small amount of guilt in my stomach over this five-finger discount, but we desperately need the privacy.

"Never took you for a thief Caroline." Stefan lips turn upwards in amusement.

I wink. "I'm a woman of many talents." I'm about to settle down, let out with a tirade of questions, but the taps catch my eye. The sage has started to smoke, but there's no such thing as being too paranoid, right? I turn on every single one I can find, just in case the herbs haven't deterred any would-be eavesdroppers. Then I round on him.

"Who the hell is Marco Salvatore?" I get out in a rush. There's plenty more where that came from, but it's the most pressing one on my mind.

"He's an ancestor of mine." Stefan responds, sitting down on the edge of the tub. I raise my eyebrows, and gesture somewhat wildly for him to continue. He sighs. "You know how my father was somewhat vampire obsessed – well, one of the stories he used to regale Damon and I with was of Marco Salvatore, the great vampire hunter of Italy." He spares a moment to roll his eyes, but there's a distinct lack of disbelief in his voice. "Supposedly, he was notoriously feared amongst the 'demons of the night,' as Giuseppe put it, and was mainly active during the late 17th to 18th centuries." He runs a hand over his forehead.

"And you think he was telling the truth?" I ask, trying not to let my voice sound too judgy; I fail miserably.

Stefan shrugs. "I do now."

"How did you know Klaus and Elijah were, or are interested in him?" I press on.

"I didn't." He folds his hands in his lap now. "But I do know that there are vampire hunters currently in Venice, and I took the gamble that Marco is somehow involved."

I stare at him, frankly impressed. "Good one." I pause. "Wait – what do you mean, there are vampire hunters at large around here?"

Stefan sniggers. "The guards outside our rooms aren't exactly familiar with subtlety. They talk. Late at night." He doesn't elaborate.

"So there they are, spilling all their sexploits, and you listen in?" I can't stop a laugh from erupting.

He pulls a face. "I blocked out a lot of it, but there was some useful stuff."

"Lucky us then." My smile is fleeting. "Now, all we need to do is convince the Original brothers that you know heaps about Marco Salvatore." Which is not such a good thing, now that I think about it. Aside from the fact that Marco Salvatore might only be a myth, we know as much about him as they probably do. We could always make stuff up, going off what we know of The Five –

"Hang on!" I blurt out, my hand in the air, like I'm silencing the different train of thoughts in my head. I swallow, inhale some oxygen, and turn to Stefan. "You don't think that Marco could be one of The Five, do you?"

He sucks in a small breath, which pretty much says it all. "It's possible. For him to be as celebrated by my father as he was, he'd have to be fairly successful, and the only people who can continually go up against vampires and survive are –"

"– Members of The Five." I finish. We stare at each other. "And that would kind of explain why we ended up here, of all places. I mean, you're related to someone whose magic is pretty much linked with the sword, and you were present for the spell." I offer.

It's like everything has been suddenly thrown into a new perspective, and it leaves me wondering what else we could have missed.

"Caroline," Stefan starts, standing up, "If Marco is one of The Five, that means we could find the cure here, in this time." I've never seen him look like this before; his eyebrows bunched up, his lips pinched, and his eyes hopeful. It's like he's asking me to say yes to this, to agree to staying behind and working things out here.

"You think we should focus on the cure instead of getting back?" I ask, somewhat hesitantly.

"I think we only know how to do one of those things, and until there comes a time when we know how to do the other, why waste what we've got?" He says.

I don't like the fact that he's speaking in riddles, but I can see where he's going. "But what about Elena? And Tyler, and my mom, and Bonnie and Damon – I don't think we can just forget about them." I say, my voice adopting a shakiness of its own.

"We won't."

"We can't stay here." I murmur, not really listening to him. I've been putting the homesickness out of mind for this long, because I thought I was being selfish, wishing that things could be different. But there's no point in denying the truth; I miss home. It aches somewhere in my chest, worsening with each day and the realisation that Stefan is right. We don't know how to get back, and until we do, we're just sitting ducks.

That doesn't make things any less complicated though.

"But what choice do we have?" As always, he voices what I'm thinking.

I fumble with my hands for a moment. For some reason, my thoughts drift to Tyler, and how we were fighting the last time I saw him. I didn't even get to apologise, to tell him how much I do love him, and now we've got more than an ocean between us.

But if we're going to be stuck here, I refuse to sit around and mope at our lack of luck. "Okay." I say quietly. "We'll look for the cure here." I swallow, just as he nods back. "But I'm going to talk to Evelyn about ways of us potentially getting back anyway."

"Evelyn? What's she got to do with this?" Now it's Stefan's turn to look curious. Quickly, I debrief him about her message.

"Do you trust her?" He asks, afterwards.

I sigh. "Well, she didn't rat us out to Klaus, and there's clearly no love lost there, so." I finish, shrugging. Again, it's not really like we've got a choice in the matter. Pretty much anything these days needs magic, cure and time portal included. If Evelyn is willing enough to meet me, I'm happy to attempt at least some kind of alliance. "And, thanks to her, both Klaus and Elijah think we can't be compelled." I add on.

"About that." Stefan starts. "If you are going to meet Evelyn, ask her if she has any vervain. I don't think either Original will try to compel us now, but let's not take any chances."

I nod. "Okay. Anything else?"

His mouth forms a thin line, his brow furrowed once more. "Be careful."

I give him a small smile in reply, before extinguishing the sage. After turning off the taps, we exit the room and head back in the direction of our chambers.

* * *

At approximately twenty minutes to twelve, I sneak out on to my balcony. I wait there for a few minutes, my eyes trained upon the vampire guard just beneath. Any second now, and he'll – there's a crash somewhere to the left of us. He goes to investigate, and I smile. Perfect timing Stefan. Silently, I ease myself on to the outside of the balustrade, and then I push myself outwards, over the gates, gracefully landing just beyond the reach of Klaus's forces.

The impact sends a ripple through my body, more of shock than pain, obviously. With a quick glance either side of me to confirm there's no other guards beyond the palace, I sprint along the edge of the pavement, before dropping just underneath a bridge. I let out a breath as my eyes adjust to the darkness. The sounds of the night ripple through the air, and without even lifting my head I can tell there's a crowd of people approaching. Their raucous shouts disappear after a second, and I quickly pull myself up out on the bridge.

Hitching up my dress, I head in what I hope is the right way towards the bridge. The canal I'm walking along side opens up into a greater area, and around another corner I find myself in a small plaza. It's pretty, but I don't have time to waste sight seeing. Instead, I head down another street, concealing myself in the shadows.

I stop for a moment, questioning a couple about the whereabouts of the bridge. They respond with a hand waved in the direction I've been heading, which makes me feel slightly better about my navigation skills. Only slightly, because these canals wind ridiculous amounts in short spaces, and sometimes they don't seem to go anywhere.

I have no idea of the time, but if I had to estimate I'd say I've got another ten minutes to spare. I duck down another side street. The one I'm on veers suddenly to the right. I frown, and stop. There's really only a single option left for me. Covertly, I steady myself back a few steps. I'm completely alone, and a single glance upwards confirms no curious eyes in the windows of the surrounding buildings. I take a single, hurried step, and then I leap across the canal.

When I land, grinning, and still satisfied that no one has spotted my pretty amazing jump, I start out again. The new side canal that I'm walking down is slightly less lit, and a shadow up ahead moves slightly to block my path. It's a man, leering, gross, middle-aged, not even the slightest bit appealing in any sense.

He says something in Italian. I glare at him, which has got to be clear enough in any language you'd think, but he doesn't move. No, this wanker decides to raise a hand to my cheek, which he no doubt thinks is a great seduction technique. He doesn't even get within half a metre before I smack his hand away and pin him by the neck against the wall in one smooth move. I hiss.

His eyes widen, and I realise a little too late that my fangs are out. If things weren't already screwed, my tight grip around his neck means his pulse is right against my fingertips, like some alarm clock that screams and calls my name, wanting to be turned off. I can literally _hear_ the blood pulsing through his body, as frantic as his heartbeat.

"Goddamn it!" I growl under my breath.

It takes a ridiculous amount of effort for me to turn my head away, just so I don't see the veins in his neck. It takes even more restraint for me to clap my free hand to my mouth, smothering the impulse to pull his body to mine, and tear at the flesh on his throat until there's not a single drop of blood left in him. Sniffing, I force myself to notice anything and everything – the smell of alcohol on his breath, the hints of sugar from the candy store around the corner, the crispness of the pavement after the rain.

A few seconds later, and I'm no longer seeing red. Sort of. I still want to feed on him, but I'm more preoccupied now with figuring out how to get out of this mess. I turn my attention back to him, but my eyes don't leave his – I don't let them.

Now I'm faced with a slightly more difficult predicament. Does compelling work if they don't understand the language it's in? Surely it's not just the words, it's the eye contact that makes the difference? But without the words, how exactly am I supposed to control his mind?

I'm scowling again. There's clearly no other option; no matter how pissed off I am at him, I'm not going to kill him, and even if I simply knocked him unconscious, whose to say he wouldn't come to and still remember? No, best to just attempt a small amount of compelling – I can always get him to fall asleep afterwards, just in case.

My eyes hold his, and the familiar feeling of control seeps through my veins and washes over him. It takes less than a split second for his eyesight and mouth to slacken. Easy enough, now comes the part when I attempt to translate memory loss to him.

"Forget." I don't even attempt Italian, considering my knowledge of the language starts and ends with hello and goodbye. Whatever. "Don't remember this." I try, just in case.

He doesn't make any indication that he's got what I'm saying though. I expel some air, and silently say a semi-apology in my head for what I'm about to do. Easily, my fingers find the sensitive area just under his chin on his neck. A few seconds of pressure, and his head slumps forward on to his chest. I let him go, and he drops unceremoniously on to the pavement.

I gaze at his slumped form for a second, before dashing the length of the canal away from him. I have no idea how long it will take for him to regain consciousness, but I don't want to be around when he does. With any luck, he'll think he hallucinated as part of his drunken stupor.

When I round the corner, I'm met by a gleaming sight; a bridge, semi crowded, and glittering against the water that flickers beneath it. After I've confirmed with a passing person that this is The Ponte Delle Guglie, I walk briskly towards it. When I reach the highest point, I wait. A nearby clock says it's a couple of minutes past midnight. Leaning out against the side, I smooth down some invisible wrinkles in my dress.

A few seconds pass before I realise someone is watching me. Cautiously, I turn my head to the right, and I'm met by a familiar face, hidden beneath the shadows of a nearby building. She jabs her head to the side, and I follow, although not exactly merrily. I don't think she means harm, simply because she's had ample opportunity already if that's what she wanted, but I'm not just going to go gallivanting after her without a care in the world. Instead, I stick to the sidewalk. It is lit and within view of humans. Neither of us really want to attract attention, after all.

She steps out slightly.

"Hi." I say, first. Evelyn merely nods. My hands were clasped behind my back, but I bring them forwards now in an attempt to show her I'm not going do harm. She likewise unfolds her arms.

"Well, message received, what do you want?" I prattle off.

She tilts her head to the side, but doesn't respond. Her eyes narrow in a way that is neither threatening nor reassuring. Well, it's her move now. "You're not from around here." She says, matter-of-factly.

I swallow. "Not exactly." Think like a politician – no straight answers.

She nods. "It's quite obvious, actually." _Don't respond_, I think as I grit my teeth. She assesses my response before she speaks again. "Let me be frank: I abhor vampires." She doesn't move, but I can sense a threat that hangs in the air. Or maybe that's just me picking up on her _abhorrence_ for what I am. Either way, I stiffen slightly.

"You have no respect for life or the intrinsic magic of the earth." She continues. "In fact, your continued existence abuses it." Well, she certainly doesn't pull any punches.

"Did you ask me here just to insult me?" I respond, my annoyance growing with every second she spends staring me down. Excuse _you_, I'm the intimidator around here. "Because I have way better things to be doing than listening to your anti-fangs tirade." She quirks an eyebrow and I huff, throwing my hands in the air. "Yeah, okay, it sucks. I hate the fact that I want to kill people. And I'm hungry, _all the time_." I swallow. The memory of the intoxicated man is still fresh in my mind, as is the hollow, insatiated feeling in my throat. I'm clearly not helping my case though, as evidenced by her pinched face. "But I'm trying, and so long as I keep needing blood to survive, that's not going to change." I finish, folding my arms across my chest.

Her head tilts upwards. "I know that."

I falter. "You know that?" I repeat, not even caring with how stupid I sound now.

"I touched your mind. And while it's true I did see violence there," she expels some air, "You are not like any other vampires I have encountered in that you reject these impulses." She steps forward slightly, and instinctively I move backwards. "More importantly, I did sense a spell." A rare smile comes across her face. "And it felt familiar."

Being in the dark is getting really old, really quickly. "Familiar how?" I ask.

Her smile hasn't disappeared. "I wrote it."

"What?" I shriek.

Nearby people stop and stare, which makes Evelyn scowl and pull me closer to the shadows.

"What do you mean, you wrote it?" I get out in a rushed whisper.

She looks over my shoulder cautiously before she speaks. "The spell that brought you here was something I wrote as a favour to someone." Her face twists, and I get the feeling that this 'favour' is in the same vein as the things she does for Klaus.

I fold my arms across my chest. "Well, consider this an official complaint: the spell didn't work."

"Evidently." She responds, rolling her eyes. "Now how was the spell cast?"

"No, hang on!" I protest. "If you wrote it, that means you must know about The Five." I search her eyes for any indication of lies.

"Indeed." Evelyn says simply.

My eyes widen, and I make some exaggerated gesture that's half angry, half flustered. "How much do you know about them?"

She cocks her head. "How much do you?" She counters.

I suppress the urge to scowl again. "Well I know they probably hate us as much as you do, and that they've got tattoos, and swords, one of which was part of your spell." I expel some air.

She nods. "Did you have the sword there when the spell was cast?"

"Yes. Plus candles, and the grimoire." I neglect to mention Marco Salvatore. Afterall, you don't play all your cards at one time. "So what do you think went wrong?"

Now she's frowning. "Your witch must have made a mistake."

"That's impossible." I fold my arms across my chest, shaking my head. It's not because Bonnie is my friend, and I instinctively defend her (although that probably has something to do with it) – she's powerful, and she had been practising for days on end before the actual time came. She couldn't have messed up. No, whatever it is that caused the spell to malfunction had something to do with the spell itself, and Evelyn by extension.

"Do you have any alternative theories?" She puts her hands on her hips.

"No." I press my lips together. "But I know my friend, and she couldn't have stuffed this up. It was important." I pause before speaking again. "You called this meeting, Evelyn, and you wouldn't have done that if you didn't think we could help each other."

Her face once more becomes analytical. "I'd need something in return."

Great, another stupid deal with someone who we probably can't trust. Just when I think we've gotten ourselves deep enough with Klaus, this slippery witch comes along with a potential trade off. "Fine. What?" I say, exasperated.

"Access to your mind."

I narrow my eyes. "What for?"

"You're a link to the spell."

"And?"

She fixes me with a stare. "Neither of us are stupid. You represent access to knowledge not seen of during this time. I want to learn."

This is slightly more complicated than I could have anticipated. The prospect of Evelyn knowing things about the future, things about me, doesn't exactly fill me with confidence, but we're never going to find someone with as much access to the spell's intricacies as her. On top of that, she knows things about The Five. It's like the universe has packaged the solutions to our problems in one person, only there's about a million and one lines of fine print, and I don't have the time nor the inclination to go through everything. So, I go with my instinct.

"Okay." I take a step forwards, and steel my voice. "But I want full disclosure. And I'll also need vervain in weekly doses."

If she's surprised, she doesn't show it. She simply nods. We agree then to meet twice a week, if possible. She says she'll keep in touch somehow, but not before offering me a few springs of vervain, maybe as some kind of peace offering. It singes my fingers temporarily before I stuff it in my little bag. After that, she disappears back down a canal, and I somehow find my way back to the palace. I hide behind a corner, just out of sight of the guard patrolling the interior. Just like I agreed with Stefan, I grab a nearby abandoned pot and bang it callously against the structures of the bridge. A few dogs bark in response to the noise.

And then the guard disappears out of my line of view. A rope made from bed sheets (clichéd, but whatever, it works) is swung over the side of the fence, and I take a running leap to grab it. I could have just as easily pulled myself up by the fence, but that would have been more difficult in my current attire.

Once I reach the top, I'm hoisted over the side by Stefan. Conversations later, first, to bed.

* * *

**So ... what do we think? Stefan's related to a member of The Five? Evelyn wrote the spell? Fire away with your questions / issues / what not. Next chapter I promise to include more Klaroline + only the greatest festival of all time = Carnevale! Think massive balls and hedonism hehehehe.**

**Follow me on tumblr gloriousforbes**


	6. Chapter 6

**Again, apologies for how long this has taken. I work in retail, and retail + Christmas = nightmare. More Klaroline this chapter though!**

**Thankyou to all the wonderful reviewers, you make this stuff more fun than it should be 8D**

**DISCLAIMER: Only think I own is a cat.**

* * *

"So, let me get this straight; Evelyn wrote the spell that brought us here?" Stefan asks.

"Mhm." I say as I sidestep a branch. "Crazy, right?"

The pair of us are on our first official trip outside of Venice into the woods. These kind of trees are so similar to the ones back home, I can almost pretend we're just having a debrief in the forest surrounding the Salvatore boarding house. The illusion is broken by our clothing, of course, and I'm dreading the moment when we'll need to give chase to some unfortunate deer. I'll probably have to take half these stupid layers off.

"That's one way to describe it." Stefan runs a hand over his forehead, worryingly, and I shrug an arm around him.

"Hey, look on the bright side; we'll be killing two birds with one stone, Stef. Or one witch, technically speaking." I push some branches aside. "She finds Marco, we get the cure, she sends us home, and everyone lives happily ever after."

_Happily_ might be a bit of a stretch. The living part too, is debatable. Last time I checked, messing with stuff in the past always changes the future in some way, and Stefan at least has crossed paths with an Original prior to me even being born. Who knows what might happen in Chicago now? Will either of us even make it that far?

"How much do you think we've changed the future?" I voice my thoughts, almost too casually.

He sighs. "I don't know." His shoulders slump forwards the slightest amount, and we're silent for a few more moments as we trudge through the woods. "I guess we won't find out until we get back."

_If_ we get back. On top of that, I've always had a little bit of a _problem_ with patience. "Not necessarily. Maybe Evelyn can do some kind of witchy Skype call with Bonnie."

Stefan manages a smile in response, but he doesn't say anything.

I push on. "And, if it works, we might be able to see Elena and Tyler." I say, smiling hopefully.

At first, he looks just as pleased as I am about that possibility. But then the corners of his mouth turn downwards, and a flicker of annoyance crosses his face. "But how much is that going to cost you in terms of your bargain?"

"Doesn't matter." Stubbornly, I fold my arms across my chest. "We need to know things are okay at home, and they're probably freaking out about us as well." I step in front of him, so we're facing one another. "I'll deal with whatever Evelyn wants."

Stefan frowns, and that says plenty enough in itself. "I can't pretend I'm happy about that." He starts, avoiding eye contact.

"I know." I say, almost instantly. I'm not ecstatic either.

He looks back into my eyes. "But I trust you."

I smile, and we start walking again. The rest of the time is spent analysing every other part of the previous day's conversations, right down to whether Elijah has an ulterior motive to Klaus, whether Klaus has any intention of breaking the hybrid curse during this time, etc. Naturally, for every answer we think we have, another question pops up. After a while, we separate; neither of us have ever really been one for a joint hunt.

I lose track of how many animals I drink from. Regardless of how gross it is, my need to feed is greater than any humanitarian impulses I might have. It's not like there's any better alternative either unfortunately. Still, I feel strength return back into my body, and the hunger I'd pushed to the back of my mind gradually decreases in intensity. Finally, I make my way back to the clearing from before. Stefan joins me a few minutes later, and then together we re-enter the city. There's an escort waiting in St Mark's square, and from there we're redirected back to the palace.

* * *

It's been a week since we first arrived. I haven't seen Klaus once since that meeting with Evelyn, but Elijah has been around in a kind of supervisory role. Most of our time is spent outside the palace, either hunting or meeting and planning with Evelyn. Although we haven't had much luck on that front, because the witch supposedly couldn't glean anything much from the clothes that she didn't already get from my mind. But yesterday brought news of one infamous vampire hunter; as it turns out, Marco Salvatore is due for a visit of Venice.

I haven't exactly gotten used to how things are done around here either. The dresses are huge and heavy, and apparently showers are out of the question. Nevertheless, I adjust as best as I can. Only half the nights are spent wondering how things are back home.

When Stefan and I head downstairs this morning, we're met at the bottom of the stairs by one of the vampires from the first night, Leon. He has easily got to be one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen; dark skin, dark eyes, and full lips – the kind of lips that are made for sin. And he's beaming when he spots us.

"Such a pleasure to see you two again." He says, gallantly offering his hand as I reach the last to steps. I'm rewarded with a kiss to my hand, which makes me smile.

He also grins at Stefan, who looks slightly awkward. I stifle a laugh.

"You were both terribly missed last night. There was this exquisite Spanish boy, so young, so taut – and untouched. Rare these days." He gives a laugh, and I remember now that he was a member of the French aristocracy when he was human. Figures. I quell the churning in my stomach at the thought of another slaughter, and force a cough.

"Well, I wouldn't want to put a damper on your feast." Needless to say, we've declined every single invitation to their 'dinner parties.' I suppose they assume that we prefer the hunt over a buffet, and it's not like we're going to correct them.

Stefan raises an eyebrow at the sarcasm in my voice. Leon, however, doesn't know me well enough to get offended, so he flourishes ahead of the pair of us. "No matter, I shall see you tonight."

"Excuse me?" I say sharply.

"Tonight! It is the eve of Carnevale, and there is to be a wonderful masquerade ball in San Marco square. Lord Niklaus has specifically requested your attendance." Leon grins as though this is the greatest news he could bestow upon us. Me, on the other hand – I'm considering feigning sickness. Is there some kind of terminal disease that vampires can get?

I cough again. "Thankyou, but I don't think –"

"We will see you there." Stefan cuts in.

My face freezes.

Leon claps his hands together. "Wonderful." He gallivants ahead, barely paying attention to the fact that I'm glaring at Stefan, who very determinedly avoids looking at me. Sulking, I drag my feet along behind the pair of the vampires. The actual masquerade part sounds awesome, it's more the company I'd prefer to avoid.

Speaking of the devil – "I didn't realise Lord Niklaus had returned." Stefan says, flippantly.

"Oh, he would not miss Carnevale for the world." Leon says, gesturing for the guards to open the doors ahead of us. We enter a sitting room that overlooks the Grand Canal. Leon elegantly flops on to a love seat, while I stand awkwardly, my hands folded behind my back. Stefan sits down on the couch next to him. "It's something of a tradition for him." Leon comments, as he loosens his shirt.

"Well, I don't have a mask, or a dress." I fold my arms across my chest.

Leon laughs and waves a hand. "That's easily rectified."

No doubt from the use of compulsion or any other number of vamp tactics. Unfortunately for Leon – or Klaus, if this is his bidding, I have no intention of _rectifying_ this situation, unless you count bailing before the sun goes down as a solution. A ball, attended by Mikaelsons, hits a little too close to home for my liking.

"Oh, you don't have too." I shrug.

But clearly, I'm being too passive, and not nearly enough aggressive. Leon dismisses me again – "No really, it would be my _pleasure_." He smiles winningly again. Either he's a far better actor than I'm giving him credit for, or he's delusional: no guy is going to _willingly_ go dress shopping. But maybe his will is completely out of the question right now – maybe he literally isn't in control of his mind.

_Oh._ Well, if that's the way Klaus wants to play it, he's in for a huge shock. I'm not called Barbie vampire for nothing you know. "Really?" I beam at Leon. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Not in the slightest." He responds.

"Stefan, you should come too!" If I'm going to be forced into this stupid _quest for a dress_, broody Salvatore isn't going to get off that easy. He tries to, but I cut him off. "Seriously, there is no way I can pick something out without you there." I cock my head to the side. "We can be matching!"

If looks could kill … Stefan sulks. Well, serves him right for agreeing to this in the first place.

"Excellent!" Leon stands, just as quickly as he first sat down. "Shall we depart then?"

* * *

Five hours later, and we're no closer to finding me a dress than when we first started. Which I've planned excellently, if I do say so myself. There's been about a million and one dresses that would be fine, but I'd rather die than give Klaus the satisfaction of knowing _his_ plan went off without a hitch. So through store after store, I try on dress after dress, and ask inane questions like "_Does this come in a different colour?_" or "_Do you have it with less lace?_" If Leon is getting fed up with all the girl talk, he doesn't show it. In fact, he's kind of being like the gay best friend who actually seems to revel in giving his opinion and gushing over things. Stefan, on the other hand, barely says a single word.

"What do you think?" I twirl around. The current dress is lilac, with lace across the bodice, and a massive sash that ties in a bow on my back. I don't particularly like it, but it's hilarious to see the way Stefan's face contorts ever so slightly to conceal his annoyance.

Leon smiles. "Oh, _parfait_." He claps his hands together.

I laugh. A glance out the window reveals that it's still daylight though, so I can't give up. "I don't know. Maybe purple isn't my colour." I turn back to the mirror, tilting my head in appraisal.

I hear Stefan huff. Guiltily, I turn back around. "Let's go to lunch." I sashay back behind the blinds, and the store assistant assists me in shifting out of the dress and back into my old one. After that, we walk back into the blinding sunlight. For obvious reasons, I suggest a crowded restaurant, with plenty of coverage and nothing remotely cannibalistic on the menu. I wolf down massive amounts of pasta. Carbs have been my new best friend since I was turned, especially in curbing my cravings for something other than blood.

Stefan barely says three words to me. I don't know what he expects though; I was a natural born shopper before I became a vampire, and when combined with a literal killer instinct, I make one hell of a buyer. Plus, if he didn't want to spend time finding clothes for the ball then he shouldn't have agreed to go in the first place.

The afternoon flashes by in a blur for me. We're in just another store, and Stefan is pointedly looking out the window so he doesn't see my try on countless other dresses. Leon is happily reclining on a couch, although his eyes are drifting every now and then to the sales assistant, who is bubbling at the attention.

I frown as he takes her by the hand. His gaze lingers first on her face, then her chest, and finally her wrist. Like a predator. Looks like I'll have to cut short any spending in this store.

The other girl helps me into the dress, but I'm barely paying attention. I waltz out once more.

"Well?" I say loudly, hands on hips.

Stefan groans, loudly. "Enough Caro–" He breaks off as he turns around, his eyes raking up and down. He swallows, like I've made him speechless or something.

Leon breaks our gaze by clapping. "Now, this is the dress." He stands up, waves the store attendant away (Thank God) and comes over to get a closer look. "If you don't say _Si_ to this one, I shall think you quite insane." He laughs, looking back to Stefan. "Don't you think so?"

He nods. "It's nice."

I force back another smile, instead choosing to appear undecided. "I don't know. There are still so many other stores to go through, and what if I find one I like more?" But seriously, if I plan on Stefan and I missing this ball due to torture by shopping, I'm going to need to make it much more extensive.

"Oh, impossible!" Leon says dramatically. Without another word, he ushers the sales lady over, and before I can get a word in edgewise, he's compelling her to simply hand over the dress, the matching shoes, and of course, the matching mask.

Stefan has stopped sulking, finally, which must mean it's my turn to get all angry at the turn of events. Because this hadn't been part of the plan. Shopping was supposed to be some kind of distraction, which would then turn into a fully-fledged ten hour specialised torture session, and eventually end with me not picking a single thing and gallantly offering to 'stay home' while the others 'went and had fun without me.'

Now? Not so much. Leon has already departed, with Stefan close on his heels.

After hurriedly getting changed, I stomp after them. They're already in the gondola. It seems like every time I think I'm in charge, people walk out on me and sit in those curved boats, and I can't do anything to persuade them to get back out. The sales assistant, having followed me out, proceeds to deposit the parcels in the boat, grinning coyly at Leon.

Scowling, I flop down in the boat, and gesture for the gondolier to send us on our way. By the time we reach the palace, I'm back to being as insolent as I was before, made even more extreme by the fact that Elijah has returned from some hunt, no doubt to confirm our attendance at tonight's event. And I don't even have an excuse anymore.

Naturally, Elijah helps me out of the boat. I return the favour by flouncing off.

An hour later, and I'm being collected not by the maid, but by Stefan, who does admittedly look dashing in his refinery. His mask is gold, like mine, only that's where the similarities end; he's in a dark blue gilded jacket, and he's not sitting on his bed like some five-year-old, sulking as they declare they don't want to go to the party.

"Caroline," he murmurs with a sigh, "We couldn't not go."

"Why? Because some big bad hybrid requested our attendance?" I huff.

"That's exactly why, and you know it." He points out, taking a step closer. "Klaus doesn't trust easily, which is why it's important for us to at least look like we're faithful subjects." His eyebrows knit together, upwards, pleadingly.

"Please." He says, a little quieter.

My lips pull together, and I stand up. "Fine." I immediately regret the single word, but at least Stefan seems happier now. "But only for an hour. After that, we bail, okay?"

He throws his hands in the air as a goodwill gesture, nodding. A little smile flickers on to his face as he offers his arm. Taking it, and rolling my eyes, we exit the room, through the corridor, down some marble stairs, through another couple of rooms, descend a slightly larger set of stairs, and are promptly greeted by another guard, who finally ushers us through to a waiting gondola. It appears as though we'll be going by ourselves initially, and with any luck, that will stay the same the entire night.

The city is lit up like a firework, all in varying hues of reds and greens and blues and gold. The people are nothing short of artwork in themselves; extravagant masks adorn every single visible face, and everyone is in a blissful mood.

And goddamn it, their smiles are contagious. Against my better-ahem-_tantrum_-judgement, I find myself grinning along with Stefan as we glide across the glittering surface of the Grand Canal. If only this boat would never dock, and I could just spend an entire night admiring the city with Stefan, giggling as he opened a bottle of champagne and lying in delight as the night flickered on.

But the moment doesn't last, not even for another second. We've arrived at St Mark's square, and an usher is there to help us out.

The ball appears to be in full swing, with couples on the dance floor, and people milling at the banquet and tables to the side. There is a woman singing opera, and some kind of circus troupe entertaining crowds of laughing people. As a vampire, this kind of experience is something of a feast for the senses, so I wouldn't be too surprised if fangs began to rear later on. Not mine or Stefan's though – no, I'm going to be the responsible one and make sure we're not tempted into doing anything nefarious tonight.

"C'mon, let's get a drink." I lace my hand in his, and tug him in the direction of some champagne fountain.

* * *

Having traveled countless places and lived countless years, Klaus should have been used to beauty. Most especially given his proclivity for finding culture and thriving in it, painting it, admiring it, and at times, destroying it. But Venice – Venice never ceases to amaze him. Venice is a love of his, if such a word can be used in the same breath as the Original Hybrid. And Venice during Carnevale? The idea of an afterlife is completely laughable to someone like him, but he imagines that heaven must be something like this.

His eyes find Valeria's, and she smirks at him from behind a black and silver mask. Elijah appears at his side, and along with Vincenzo the four of them make that grand entrance he's sure the entire populace of Venice has been waiting for. Trumpets herald them, and the court greets them. It is marvelous.

With Klaus at the lead, they work their way through the crowd, stopping to greet a rare few. The rest are mere peasants.

Valeria is murmuring something about a dance when he first hears it.

The sound of laughter. The sound of bells, of something so full of joy they could not contain it for the world. He cannot make out where it is from, only that it is a reasonable distance from him. But then, a few commoners disperse, and his eyes are greeted by a sight that truly is, in essence, _beautiful_.

She is wearing a red dress, only it seems more like some piece of artwork designed to draw the eyes in, and across her body that lies so closely pressed against the fabric of the bodice, like a second skin. It flows outwards from the waist, in luscious rolls of material. He is set alight now, all primal passion and desire. The very sight of her flesh is enough. A glance upwards reveals two sky blue eyes, hidden behind a mask as golden as her hair. Two sky blue eyes that stare at him unreservedly.

And that's when he remembers.

_Caroline. _The infant vampire, who had now turned her gaze away, back to the boy standing next to her. He'd invited her and her vampire companion, mainly for the sake of keeping an eye on them. How infuriatingly _accurate_ he'd been.

And now there was nothing for it; he'd simply have to have her, lest he be possessed by this need and distracted from the real issues at hand. He'd been informed a week ago of some rapid hunter in the province of Rome, and ordinarily, he'd leave these kind of things to one of the multitude of vampires sworn to do his bidding. But then word of Marco Salvatore had drifted from the boy Stefan's lips, and he'd felt oddly concerned about any mention of hunters, or more specifically, The Five. As it turned out, the aforementioned 'hunter' (he snorted at the thought in retrospect) was nothing more than a vengeful boy, who had lasted all of two and a half seconds against an Original. Nevertheless, it had satiated his bloodlust for a while, particularly since he'd rid the world of the boy's family too, just in case.

So now he was back in his city, in time for his favourite festival. He was going to satisfy another of his cravings tonight, and tomorrow he would return to hunting both the Petrova bitch and any hunter imbecilic enough to challenge his authority.

* * *

"Has it been an hour yet?" I whine.

"Nope." Stefan responds, his lips popping on the 'p'. "Try eleven minutes."

I groan, and down the rest of my glass. "Why does time move so slowly when you're a vampire?" I set down the crystal flute. "I swear it's been like, _five hours_ since we arrived."

Stefan grins. "You're not enjoying yourself, that's why."

I roll my head to the side, shooting him a look. "Well done, Sherlock."

He laughs as he too deposits his half-empty drink on a tray being carried by a waiter in an extravagant orange mask. "What about a dance?" Begrudgingly, I take his arm when he offers it, and we head out towards the middle of the square. The band has struck up some semi-upbeat song. Clearly they don't know Ed Sheeran. Stefan pulls me in, and laughing, we begin to sway gently. My eyes peruse over the other surrounding couples before landing on a woman standing metres away. Correction – a vampire, and a familiar one at that. It's that Valeria woman from the other night, occupied by some poor human guy who probably has no idea what he's getting himself in for. Standing next to her is her brother, whose name is also V-something, and then there's Leon, and Elijah. The other Original is nowhere to be found, which could mean any number of things.

But I said I wasn't going to go there. I'm not going to think about Klaus. Or the last time we were at a ball like this. Or the conversations we had. Or how dashing he looked. Nope, not thinking about him at all.

_Goddamn it._

"You-know-who has arrived." Stefan murmurs, quietly.

Of course he has. I snort. "I didn't know Voldemort could time travel."

Stefan tries to hold in a smile. "He's not called the Dark Lord for nothing." We dance for a few more seconds, and I surreptitiously gaze around the plaza for any sign of the aforementioned bad guy.

"So, what is our resident Dark Lord up to?" I try again.

Stefan has started to frown. "Funny you should ask."

I'm about to ask what's so funny about talking about Klaus, when a smooth, English-accented voice cuts in.

_Subtle_, universe.

"Mr Salvatore, Miss Forbes." I turn around, and he's standing there in all his refinery; dark red mask, dark red lips, black and gold gilded attire. The glimpse I had of him as he was announced didn't really do him justice. Up close, I'm struck by how blue his eyes are. Blue, and ridiculously enigmatic. And he's got that devilish smirk on, the one I'm sure has the mental command of "panties=drop" attached.

Damn him and that accent.

"Lord Niklaus." I say bluntly. Stefan murmurs some kind of greeting as well.

"Please, call me –"

"Klaus? Yeah, I'd rather not." I cut him off and fold my arms across my chest.

His lips curve upwards into a smile. "Then what will you call me?" He's toying with me.

Snorting, I pretend to think about my response. "A number of things, none of them nice, and none of them the kinds of things I can say amongst civilised company." Smiling, I continue. "But since you're not included in that group, I'll call you dic–"

"Are you thirsty?" Stefan jumps in, his hand brushing against my elbow. He gives it a squeeze. Message received, oh diffuser-of-tension. "Let's get another drink."

Klaus steps in. "Excellent idea. There's a lovely girl in a purple dress just waiting to be devoured." He wraps his lips around the last word, making it sound like he's talking about some chocolate fondue fountain that he wants to stick his head in. Which is what I'd take any day over his suggestion.

Stefan clears his throat. "How about wine?"

"Well, if you're offering." He says. No doubt he thinks Stefan is just going to fetch it for him. "In the meantime – shall we?" He gestures to the dance floor.

Too late, I realise he means _me. _I turn back to Stefan, making it abundantly clear from the pinched look on my face that under _no circumstances_ is he to be a _gentleman_ and offer me up to the other man. I've already had one guy do that with Klaus, and once was enough.

Swiveling to Klaus, I adopt my best faux-smile. "I'd rather jump in the canal, but thanks!" So what if I've already used that line on him – it's not like he knows that, and it was pretty effective the first time. Sort of.

"Come now love, one dance with the devil won't hurt."

And this I'm supposed to believe after his dietary preferences? I don't think so.

"You sure about that?" I deadpan. "For your sake, I mean. These heels have been known to double as stakes." I'm not entirely kidding, either. If it came to it, I would indeed sacrifice the works of art I'm currently wearing on my feet if it hindered Klaus for a small amount of time.

He laughs me off. "There are few ways I can be wounded, and none of them involve the use of your shoes." Moving closer, his voice becomes quieter. "Though I do applaud your ingenuity."

I don't even know how I'm supposed to respond to that. So, rather than dignifying him with an answer, I flick some hair over my shoulder, and divert my attention to Stefan. "I think I'll take that drink."

Klaus cuts in. "Wine can wait; I can't." For some centuries old vampire, he certainly knows how to sound like a petulant child when he doesn't get his way. A petulant child capable of mass murder in the time it would take a human to bat an eyelid. Part of me is reminded of what Stefan was saying before, about keeping a minimal profile, playing nice and all that jazz. But there's something about Klaus that clashes against me, and my natural response is bitch mode.

Unfortunately, sometimes keeping the peace is better than standing your ground, especially when it concerns the Original family. So I swallow my pride, and fit my hand into Klaus's. He leads me back amongst the throngs of people, gesturing to the band as he does so. The song changes, and there's something almost seductive about this new one, which is probably all Klaus's doing. He catches me off guard, gently pulling me in as the opera singer begins the melody. Ignoring the urge to fit myself into him as I might have done in the past (or future, however you look at it) I begin the steps of the dance stiffly.

But with grace, because I'm Miss Mystic Falls goddamn it, and I'm going to show these people how it's _done_.

"You know, for someone who shows a particular abhorrence to blood, you do look magnificent in crimson." He looks and sounds genuine, but maybe that's just a product of genuine desire to get into my knickers.

"It's scarlet." I reply, with a touch of snark, before turning my head to the side so I don't have to look into his eyes. That's dangerous territory.

"Semantics only. The real point to be made is gratification, and how futile your efforts to resist it are." He says, steering me slightly closer to the canal.

I scoff. "Resist it, or resist you?"

"If only both were possible, hm?" He smirks. "It's simply a matter of time, now."

Oh, time. If there's one thing both of us have unfortunately got, it's that. "Well, I'll save you the effort by telling you right now that you and I – it's not going to happen." I'm willing to bet I could easily outlast him in the stubborn stakes.

"Famous last words, love." He spins me around, in time with the rest of the orchestra, and I spot Stefan a few metres away, dancing with Valeria. Gritting my teeth when Klaus once more guides me to his body, I try to look elsewhere. But to no avail, it seems; my eyes are stuck on Stefan, and the way he's wrapped her in his arms. There's nothing there, I know that, but I'm worried _she _doesn't. And yeah, I'm worried about what this could mean in the grand scheme of things.

Klaus must read this on my face, because he chuckles. "Don't be sullen; Valeria is a fickle creature. If Mr Salvatore's attention is as diverted as Leon says, she'll find something new to play with."

I'm scowling at him now. Was that supposed to make things better? "I'd rather we didn't talk about it."

He seems to consider this for a moment. "As you wish." Smiling slyly, his voice becomes husky with innuendo. "I can think of far more enjoyable activities for us to do with our mouths."

I nearly ch0ke in that moment. "Yeah, maybe I should get you a muzzle?"

He laughs, and that very sound makes a few people nearby look over curiously. "Miss Forbes, if nothing else, you are truly delightful."

There's a few more beats of the dance in which neither of us speak again. Maybe because I'm surprised he didn't bite my head off (figuratively, obviously) and he's thinking thoughts that don't reflect on his face. He starts to speak again. "I can't imagine tiring of Carnevale." I sneak a look at his face, and I'm a little taken aback at the traces of sentimentality that linger. He's still smiling, but it's no longer arrogant, he's just – I don't know, happy, maybe.

_Weird_. "How?" I ask, still guarded.

"The question is not how, but why." The mask conceals most of his emotions now. Although I have a feeling that, even if it had not been there, I'd still be in the dark about his true motives. But then he swallows, and even if it's small, its still an indication of _something_. "I came to Venice every year when I was first turned. People seem free here. It's quite addictive." He wets his lips.

"Every year?" I can't stop the question before it spills out.

Nodding, his eyes find mine, closing the gap between us an infinitesimal amount. "I'll let you in on a secret." By now, his lips have quirked upwards into a smile, but he doesn't break contact. "When you have an eternity at your disposal, you'll find things that linger." I have to remind myself to breathe, and swallow, and breathe. He continues to speak, but with more intensity now. "And when they do last, you'll want to keep them."

I start inhaling again, but it's a slow process. I don't get him. One minute he's seductive and sleazy and tempting and all that, and the next he's showing signs of actual humanity, which scares me because if he was just Klaus the murderer, I would have no problems with hating him – I've got enough reasons too. But this Klaus? The one I've had glimpses of in the past? The one who isn't wholly manipulative and evil? I can't quite figure out how to feel around him.

Swallowing, I turn my head away once more. "Well, I can see why you like it." I shift my feet during the next step so I don't feel so overwhelmed by our proximity.

The song ends, and a round of applause follows. Abruptly, I disentangle myself from his arms. I look at him, once final time, for one final quip. The words get stuck in my mouth. "Thankyou." Finally, I speak. Only I meant to say it sarcastically, and instead I am sincere.

Before he has a chance to response, I've turned on my heel. This doesn't count as fleeing, does it?

My eyes search for a familiar lock of chestnut hair, but Stefan is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Valeria. Frowning, I head over in the direction of the refreshments table. Maybe he's just getting a head start on me. But he's not there – at least, I can't spot him through the raucous crowd. The masks have gone from freaking awesome to freaking annoying in an instant. At first, I try squeezing my way politely through people. But I only make it about a metre, and I have no patience so, I start shoving. It's like that Taylor Swift concert I went to all over again.

When I finally make it to the other side of the table, there's still no sign of a Salvatore. Huffing, I head in the direction of the shops that line the edge of the square. We really should have sorted out some meeting place for the two of us should either one get lost. Too late for that now, I stand under some archway. I stole someone's drink along the way, so now I just stand there, sulking and drinking, eyeing the crowd for any sight of Stefan.

It takes another ten minutes for me to give up. Maybe's he's not in the Square anymore. Emptying the last of the champagne from the glass, I wander down a small canal bridging off from the main one. It's mercifully less populated, although I get the sense that the 'real' party could happen any moment away from the lights and grandeur of the ball. I steal down a couple of other walkways, until I find myself moderately alone in one. I say moderately because this alleyway is considerably darker – probably the perfect place for someone to indulge in a bit of sin.

I'm about to turn around, head back in the same direction, when a shadow catches my eye. Something, wait, someone, is slumped against the wall a little further down. Without even needing the closer look, I know that they're dead – it's not like I can smell blood, but I can't hear a heartbeat.

Something is sticking out of their chest. Eyes widening, and with a growing sense of trepidation, I walk closer. I'm not normally a morbid person, but there's something very _off _ about this entire scene. The shadows envelop half of my face. I get closer, only to see the face of –

I open my mouth to scream in horror, but a foreign hand claps across my mouth, silencing any hope of that.

* * *

**CLIFFHANGER! Who's kicked the bucket?**

**Hope you enjoyed that little glimpse into Klaus's mind. There will be more of that next chapter, except it will be present day Klaus, wooo. In case people were interested in the dress that Caroline wears, I have a picture of it saved, just ask if you want to see it (:**

**And head over to my tumblr gloriousforbes for more stuff. 8D**


	7. Chapter 7

**For those wonderful people still sticking with me, thankyou! Bit late on the update, as usual, and I'm afraid there's not as much Klaroline as usual. There is, however, another ship I'm particularly fond of, let's see if you can guess! Anyway, on with the show.**

**DISCLAIMER: It's like, ten days til TVD comes back? If I owned it, I wouldn't have made that big of a wait. Just saying.**

* * *

Bonnie had been in a lot of sticky situations. Not that she was complaining, mind, but she could more than easily admit the fact that, more often than not, being a witch was more of a curse than a blessing, pardon the pun. But this? Losing Stefan and Caroline? Stealing the sword? This was pretty grim regardless of any way she spun it. And the worst was yet to come – she still had to tell the others. Tyler, Caroline's mom and the rest of the gang she could handle, but Klaus was in an entire category of his own; a category that was patented with big red words that screamed "DO NOT PROVOKE." Then again, Bonnie had never really had much tolerance for Klaus and his moods, and she before anyone else was probably best equipped to dealing with him. That didn't mean she relished this encounter though.

She knocked on the front door of the Mikaelson's manor, ignoring the whirlpool inside her stomach. Steeling her mind and face, she was surprised when someone she'd never seen before answered the door. He looked, quite frankly, like a younger, more devilish version of Elijah, with dark hair and dark lips that were quirked upwards into a smirk.

"And who might you be? An early birthday present?" He teased, leaning casually against the door frame.

Frowning, she folded her arms across her chest. "Bonnie. Who are you?"

"Ah, so you're the famed Bennett witch. You know, those stories did not do you justice. You're far more stunning in person." He grinned at her, and she was suddenly struck by a realisation.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're Kol, aren't you?"

"So the angel knows of me!" He looked positively delighted at this news. Bonnie rolled her eyes, and attempted to push past him. Not quick enough though, the vampire sidestepped into her path.

"What can I help you with, sweet –"

"Okay, firstly, I'm not your sweet anything." Bonnie cut him off. "And secondly, I need to speak with your brother, not you, so it's really none of your business."

"And there's that fire." Completely undeterred, he titled his head to the side. "You know, I'm going to be a rare gentleman and save you the trouble of either one of my brothers. They're dull, and a _flop._" He leaned forward, grinning conspiratorially. "Quite literally."

Bonnie felt a grimace coming over her face, but she killed it the second she spied Klaus over his younger brother's shoulder. Kol seemed to realise this too, because he leaned away from her, and glanced idly over his shoulder. "Ah, brother. Didn't see you there."

Bonnie could see Klaus roll his eyes, even from this distance. "Perhaps you should remove your head from your arse, that could help. You might then notice the supreme lack of interest on Miss Bennett's face."

Kol sneered. "Speaking from your experience with Caroline?"

A muscle twitched in Klaus's jaw, as though it was taking every inch of self control he had not to snap his younger brother's neck. "I'd wager they both prefer the sight of me over you, mate."

"Okay, stop." Bonnie demanded, before things could get any more heated. The last thing she needed going into a potential confrontation with the Hybrid was to have him already tightly wound. Addressing Klaus, she folded her arms across her chest. "We need to talk."

He replaced his look of irritation with a polite smile. "The study is free." He gestured to a room on her right.

"As is my bedroom." Kol added, grinning once more at Bonnie. "If you're interested."

She scowled. "I'm not."

Without another word, she followed Klaus through what she supposed was a sitting room into another area that held a few shelves, as well as a desk. The window gazed upon the garden, but she was more preoccupied with Klaus, as he reclined on the couch in the corner. He didn't speak, instead preferring to meet her stare unwaveringly.

"So, I'm just going to come out with it." She let out a somewhat shaky breath. "Stefan and Caroline are missing."

It took a single millisecond for his face to change, but it was like a storm overtaking a harbour. His face darkened, a muscle tightened once more, and his eyes held all the cold fury of a hurricane threatening to tear apart anything within reach. "What?" He practically growled the word. Before she could say anything else, he stood up, advancing towards her.

"Answer me now witch and I'll make yours a relatively quick death." His face was inches from hers.

"You heard what I said." She murmured, angrily. "And don't threaten me."

"Well, the threat wouldn't be necessary if you had played by my rules, now would they?" He growled, a fist coming up to slam against the wall next to her. She flinched, but didn't waver any more than that.

"There was nothing I could do." She responded, equally as pissed off.

He nearly wrenched the room apart the next second. "Oh, don't play falsely modest now." He strode away, thankfully, although not before sending her the darkest look in his arsenal. "The blame of this rests entirely on your shoulders." He turned back to her. "Now ordinarily I would make good on my promise to feed you your own heart and lungs, but as you seem to be the only witch connected to this –"

"Careful, Klaus." Bonnie hissed back. "As you say, I'm involved in this, and as I'm sure you can remember, I'm more than capable of bringing you down." She took another step forward, but he was not to be outdone.

"Oh, I've long outgrown your party tricks. Now you either find them, or I'll make sure the next person missing is your beloved Gilbert boy," He stopped to sneer, "And I can guarantee you will only find pieces."

Inside, Bonnie was a combination of all things hatred, and pain, and defiance, and of course, fear. She wasn't concerned for herself; it was the images of Jeremy, tortured and bloodied, that made her heart shake in her chest. But she wasn't going to let him have that satisfaction. "You'd really kill your only lead on the hunters?" She challenged.

"I have an eternity ahead of me, and there will be more where he came from. So yes, unlike Stefan and Caroline, Jeremy is expendable." His voice was lower now, and calmer, which was just as terrifying as any one of his rages. For a moment, Bonnie stood there, trying to process the way in which his eyes betrayed an emotion she could not reconcile with all his current anger – it was fear. Like he was scared of what the pair of them, gone, could mean. But then his stance shifted, and the momentary flicker was lost in the darkness that once more covered his face. "And while you're at it, perhaps you could _return my sword_." He sneered.

Ah, so the hybrid had figured things out. Bonnie grimaced internally, but was smart enough not to show any kind of annoyance on her face. He was, after all, 'The Big Bad,' and while she could undoubtedly go toe to toe with him in a battle, she wasn't naïve enough to think she could outlast him in the long run. Plus, he was a _villain_; there were literally no lines he wouldn't cross.

"The sword is probably part of their disappearance. So either I hold on to it, or the search for Caroline and Stefan gets delayed." She said, raising her eyebrows and speaking in what Damon would call her 'judgey' voice.

It didn't work the same with him though. "I have a better plan. You bring the sword to me. You do your little witchy spells. And until that time when the mystery of your weighty failure has been solved, or the pair of them are returned to us, whichever comes first, you do not leave this house." He took a step closer, as if to drive home the message.

For a moment, Bonnie thought he was joking, so she nearly did laugh. When it appeared he was being serious though, she scoffed. "That's not going to happen." She deadpanned.

Klaus shook his head condescendingly. "Need I remind you that your preferred version of things will result in substantial collateral damage?" He tilted his head upwards. "You could save yourself a lot of time and your friends a lot of pain if you agree to my terms now."

Bonnie swallowed. And while she'd never admit it following the event, she almost felt like screaming and crying right then and there. The use – no, the _abuse_ of her powers by other people – was it ever going to end? Or was that just the Bennett curse? To be constantly tossed between the sides, just a pawn in a war, trapped by loyalty and love but left alone when the weight was too much? She didn't want to agree. But she would. Because, as always, she didn't have a choice. And maybe she wished she could have the same kind of self-interest as someone like Katherine, but at the end of the day, it didn't matter what she _wished_ or hoped for. The people she loved were in danger – and that was all there was to it.

"Fine." She refused to let herself slump though. Not her, she was a fighter. "I'll bring you your sword." She swallowed, before turning on her heel and heading for the door. As she reached the frame, she turned back momentarily. "And Klaus? I'll find them." Her face darkened now, as she said her next words. "But not for you. I'm doing this for them, because they're my friends. So don't think I'll hesitate when it comes to hurting you."

A sinister smirk crossed his face. "Likewise."

* * *

Having people clap their hands over your mouth is completely overrated. Not only is it a serious invasion of personal space, but there's nothing even remotely sexual, or romantic about your lips being pressed against the palm of another. At least, that's what I'd thought. But then, once upon a time, a British voice had whispered soothing words into my ear, when I'd been in that exact same position and I'd felt safe, and _goddamnit_, its bloody happening again.

"You're okay. Don't move." His breath is against my ear, and his clutch around my body is tight enough for me to feel it, but not so much that I'm feeling the need to struggle. Although, given that it's Klaus behind me, and not someone I'd normally associate with the word 'protected,' maybe struggling is exactly what I need to be doing.

Slowly, he releases me. And at the exact moment when I can wiggle my body around, I do, wrenching myself free from him completely. There's a moment when I'm craving the contact of his body, but I put that down more to heat than anything else.

"Get away from me!" I hiss, before glancing around, in case anyone is watching.

"Necessary precaution. Can't have you screaming bloody murder." He smirks, before roaming his eyes around my frame and on to the body behind me. I follow his lead, and we turn back to the body.

Oh, _Leon_. This sucks. His company was probably the only persons I could tolerate without the urge to take pencils to my skin. And he certainly doesn't look charming right now, worse still because his face is an image of horror. I don't even want to think about how anyone could get the jump on a centuries old vampire, let alone one as sociable as him. You'd think that surrounding yourself with other bodies, particularly humans, would be enough of a deterrent to hunters, who purportedly live behind some "no innocents" rule. Then again, it would only take a second. A second to be distracted, to be surprised, and then –

I wince my eyes shut, away from the scene in front of me.

Klaus goes in for a closer look, and I content myself with guarding the entrance to the alley way. The last thing we need is someone to walk in on this.

But then I hear the slightly revolting sound of the stake being removed, and it's enough to make me want to knit my ears shut as well.

"How _bloody_ fantastic." I hear Klaus say, more to himself.

"What?" I turn around, my voice injected with a small amount of hysteria. If Klaus is pissed off, you can be sure it's not going to be good. Without a word, he hands me the stake. Cautiously, I grab it, running my fingers over the intricate designs over the sheath. That's not what's making the hybrid pissed though – no, it's the symbol and initials engraved upon the hilt. _MS._

Marco Salvatore.

My scowl matches his now. "Son of a bitch."

Klaus stands up. "You need to leave." Both his face and voice are devoid of any emotion, but I can sense the alpha male vibe in droves.

"I'm okay." I insist.

"I said, _leave._" The last word is nearly growled, and I'm reminded by the fact that he's part wolf, or at least, dormant-part wolf, if that's even an accurate term. His stance is uncompromising, from the fold of his arms against his chest, down to the emotionless expression on his face.

"Fine." I huff, throwing my hands in the air. Swishing on my heel, I can't stop another grimace crossing my face. If I'm being honest, I'm more annoyed with myself than anything else. Because I didn't push him off as quickly as I should, and because I'm obeying him without so much as a tantrum.

Then again, I need to find Stefan, and fast. Just because the currently staked vampire isn't my favourite Salvatore doesn't mean the other, potentially a lot more threatening Salvatore isn't making it his mission to take down his descendent – although, he wouldn't technically know that he's the ancestor of Stefan. But I digress. A vampire is a vampire to a hunter, so the sooner I find my friend, the better.

When I reach the square once more, I'm sort of surprised at how completely unaware the hordes of people are to the threat stalking and staking down the alley ways. That shouldn't matter to me though. I start worming my way through the crowd, my eyes scanning face after face. But nothing is standing out. Biting down on my lip to prevent a frustrated scream from erupting, I head towards the champagne fountain, since that seems to be were other vampires are congregating. Because, you know, alcohol goes so well with blood.

"Stefan!" My voice rings out as I spot a familiar flop of beautiful, Schwarzkopf-styled hair (his preferred shampoo brand, FYI). He turns around, and in my haste to get to him I nearly topple over some juggler. Naturally, said acrobat ends up being forcefully moved to the side with a single lift of my left hand.

As I near him, his brow furrows. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Did Klaus do something?" His voice becomes significantly lower.

"Yes and No."

He still looks confused though. "Um," I murmur, through pressed lips, "Leon is dead."

Stefan's mouth drops. "How?" One of his hand reaches up to his forehead.

"The same way for any one of us, Stefan." I start shaking my head. "It was Marco. He's here." My eyes flit suspiciously around, just in case. Again, I find it hard to believe a hunter would attack in a public place filled with humans, but then maybe that was the same blind faith in safety that got Leon killed. I lace my fingers with his, and pull him in the direction of the edge of the canal. "So we're leaving, right now."

Stefan is nodding, and casting glances behind him. "Did you find him?"

I look sideways at him. "Marco or …?"

He looks at me, and neither of us need to say another word for the answer to become clear. And I guess that means that he gets his answer from me as well. He touches a hand to my shoulder. "Are you alright?" He asks, opting for bluntness.

"Fine." I shrug. "I have seen a staked vampire before."

He drops the topic as we near the canal, and I'm grateful for that. I suppose I am okay, but talking about it makes it more and more difficult to remove the image of Leon, lips opened in a silent scream, from my mind. We're a few metres from the gondola we arrived in when another vampire steps into our path. It's Elijah. I suppose we should have talked to him earlier, paid our respects (because we all know how big he is on that sort of stuff) but he'd completely slipped my mind.

"Miss Forbes, Mr Salvatore." He addresses us with the slightest incline of his head. "I take it you're both aware of the alarming turn this night has taken." He doesn't sound particularly _alarmed_, and how in the hell did he manage to get wind of Leon's fate so quickly?

"We are. I thought Caroline found him." Stefan glances at me out of the corner of his eye.

Elijah shakes his head idly. "Upon discovering the corpse, I alerted Klaus, who was then fortunate enough to arrive at the scene around the same time as Miss Forbes."

I can almost feel the burn of Stefan's questions on my face – _why didn't you tell me Klaus was there as well?_ I shoot him a 'later' look, although I don't know how obvious it's going to be behind this mask, before turning back to Elijah.

"Well, I guess we were lucky." I blow out a breath.

"Luck is fickle. Don't ever trust in it." Elijah murmurs. Oh right, I forget he's got a Masters degree in blunt life lessons, and personal hygiene and manners, and at any moment he could doll some of that priceless stuff out. Luckily, the mask pretty much covers the tinge that rises in my cheeks at his admonishment, and he's too much of a gentleman to make sport of it, unlike others, _cough_-Klaus-_cough._

"Please." He gestures to the waiting gondola, before following us in. "I will escort you back to the palace now."

I slide back easily into the boat now. You know, there's probably something to be said about why the majority of women in Venice are so fit – getting out of the gondolas in these dresses is nothing short of a workout, and they're doing it daily. Stefan joins me on the seat next to me, and Elijah sits opposite us. When the boat takes off, he resumes the conversation.

"It would be best if word of Marco Salvatore does not scatter further than it should." Elijah murmurs, which I take to mean that we should keep our mouths shut.

"Fine." I swallow the sour taste in my mouth that comes from taking orders. "What are you going to do about him?" I ask curiously. "Because obviously, death is out of the question."

Elijah tilts his head, curiously. His eyes draw lines through mine. I don't think I've said anything out of the ordinary –

Only I have.

Because death to a hunter, or rather a particular kind of hunter at the hands of a vampire would mean more of a problem than simply keeping him imprisoned. I really have no idea how much we should know about The Five, but I'm willing to bet that both Originals would not lightly tell others about the fact that a hunter hierarchy exists. And Marco Salvatore pretty much tops it. Nope, the existence of The Five has to be a nice little tidbit of history that Klaus and Elijah conceal. And now they know that we know about Marco's alter ego.

My breathing has slowed down rapidly as I wait for Elijah to respond.

He blinks, his face shifts, and a smile forms at the corners. "So it is."

I exhale, and I feel Stefan do the same next to me. "So I guess we just have to catch him then." I say. "And lock him up." Swallowing, I neglect to mention the fact that we still need to find the rest of the swords / hunters if we're going to get close to the cure. Klaus never really seemed the type to withhold important stuff from his brother, but I'm not going to be a bimbo again and give away half of our knowledge in one go.

"An outcome which will no doubt require compliance from both of you." He eyes the two of us.

"We've already agreed to that." Stefan responds bluntly. "Maybe now is the time for us to actually start some planning instead of talking?" He's toying a fine line by being this frank, but then again, Elijah seems to like honesty. Or is that Klaus? Ugh, I have got to sort things out.

Elijah responds with a question of his own. "What gives you the impression there isn't already a plan in action?"

Neither of us really know what to say to that, so silence fills the boat at an alarming rate, and it remains quiet even when we finally reach the palace, just as the sky is lit up by fireworks.

* * *

I sleep in through most of the next day. Mainly because I'm a PMSing Blair Waldorf on crack when forcefully pulled from my bed, but also because I'm trying to avoid contact with either Original. Stefan comes into my room around midday, and we take our daily dose of vervain tea (which is actually grosser than sipping toilet bleach) before talking some more about the ball. He makes me laugh with stories about Valeria, who apparently has literally been screwing her twin brother. Talk about keeping it in the family. When the sky grows darker, we slip out on to the patio. Given the psycho hunter currently on the loose, we'd both agreed that solitary trips were out of the question. From now on, we were joined at the hip.

I glance downwards, and scowl when I see not one, but three guards underneath us. I motion for him to have a look, and a similar look of annoyance crosses his face. A second later, we're back inside.

"Klaus must have vamped up security following Leon's murder." I say, excuse the pun.

Stefan expels a long breath. "We'll have to see if we can get out the front then."

"Um, don't know if you remember but we've got our own bouncers too?" Although these were more like the hired muscle that kept people from leaving, not going in. Still, it would take more than a grin and a flash of skin to get them to move.

Stefan glances over his shoulder in the direction of the door. "Have we?" He turns back to me. "I mean, Klaus had to get those guards from somewhere, what if he pulled them from our doors?"

I shrug. "I guess."

Without another word, Stefan is at the door. He pulls it open gently, silently, before tipping his head a fraction of the way out. He looks almost comical doing that, like some rebellious teen trying to sneak out. His head tilts in the other direction before he pulls himself back into the room. A smile forms, and his arms swing outwards in a victorious gesture. "I was right."

I reel back the smallest amount. So, we're not threats anymore, just like that? "Cool." I shake my head. "Random, but you know what they say – never look a gift horse in the mouth!" I grin at him as I waltz past on my way out.

"Especially if it's a stallion." Stefan replies.

I burst out into a fit of laughter, and he joins in. The noise carries with us all the way down the marble staircases, into the foyer. Miraculously, we manage to avoid seeing any other human and / or supernatural creatures within the house – although that shouldn't really be all that surprising given the size of this place. Still, when we reach the foyer the only guards in sight have barely reacted to our presence, which makes me think that maybe Klaus is beginning to place the safety of all of us over the assured containment of us two. But that doesn't exactly sound _in character_ for Klaus, so maybe not. More likely he's got some bigger plan.

Once we're outside, I start to breathe a little easier. The trek to Evelyn's is pretty familiar now, so we make it in record time. We're just around the corner from her shop when Stefan stops me suddenly, motioning for me to be quiet with a single finger to his lips. I pause, and we wait just out of sight.

Blank face, I wait for any kind of sign as to _why_ we've stopped suddenly. But then my eyes are caught by a figure silently sliding out from Evelyn's. His face is partially hidden in shadows, but _hot damn._ I don't need a complete view to know that this guy is good looking – is there something in the water here? Anyway, he's obviously trying to be inconspicuous, which makes me thing that Evelyn's getting more action between the sheets than me.

Yeah, I'm jealous, and therefore judgmental.

At the same time, the guy seems weird. Like human, but not entirely. Still, the look I get of him is fleeting, and I'm somewhat prone to exaggeration, which is an understatement in itself.

Stefan starts to move forwards again, and I follow. When he reaches the door, he knocks. Evelyn calls out something of a permission to enter. When we walk in she's got her back to us, fixing something up in a pot, and whatever it is, it doesn't smell all that good.

"Hello Evelyn." Stefan says politely, which catches her attention.

As she turns around, she frowns. "What's he doing here?"

Um, rude. Before I can respond with something decidedly bitchy, Stefan cuts in. "Well, Marco Salvatore is on the loose." He folds his arms across his chest. "And we were kind of hoping you could tell us some more about that."

Evelyn stares, pointedly. "That doesn't answer my question."

Stefan blinks. "Marco Salvatore is on the loose." He repeats, a little more forcefully.

She leans back against her table, silent for a moment. After a glance at whatever is in the pot behind her, she speaks again. "And I suppose you want to know where he is."

I roll my eyes – did she not get the message just before? "That would be nice." I say.

She shifts. "I don't know."

Expelling some air, I look at Stefan. "Could you find out?" Part of me isn't entirely convinced that she's telling the truth, but I'm not going to accuse her of anything.

"Maybe." She says, her face expectant; expectant as in, _what are you going to do for me_?

The same suspicious part of me points out that where Marco is concerned, as is Klaus. And he's probably a lot more effective at finding people than us, particularly since he has no boundaries. I don't really want to lead Evelyn to the slaughter, but if she's going to withhold information at the cost of more brain sessions, maybe it would be better to leave this side of things to the Original. Or Originals, because Elijah is definitely involved too. Let them handle the hunter side of things, and Stefan and I can work on the cure. And getting back, obviously.

"Well, it's not that big of a deal." I say, all nonchalant. Stefan must catch on, because he doesn't add anything else.

On another note, Evelyn tinkering around in my brain has given me something of an idea. Regarding Bonnie and the, uh, witchy Skype call? "In the meantime, do you have anything that strengthens … stuff?" I trail off. Herbs have never been my forte. Hell, magic is still pretty foreign to me, and my best friend is a witch, for crying out loud.

"What kind of stuff?" She says, sounding both parts condescending and perplexed.

"Well, say I wanted to communicate with someone through my mind, only they were kind of far away …" There I go again with the understatements. "Do you have something that might help?"

Stefan is looking at me curiously. "You mean like dream manipulation?"

"Yes!" I point at him, smiling victoriously.

Evelyn looks between the pair of us, before wrinkling her nose as though she thinks we're weirdos. "Wait here." She dashes behind one of her shelves, before reappearing with some kind of flower in her hand. When she holds it out to me, I literally have to stifle a snort.

"That's a dandelion."

Her face remains blank.

Raising my eyebrows, I try again. "I mean, don't you have something a little more – I don't know, impressive?"

She scowls. "Do you want it or not?"

Huh, now she's channeling Bonnie. Sighing, I grab the flower from her, and she starts again. "Dandelions are helpful with sleeping magic, as well as sending messages to people."

I flick it between my fingers. "Well, thanks. What do I do with it?"

"I was getting to that." She retorts. "Before you go to sleep, think of what you want to say to this person, and as you're doing that, blow off the petals. It might help if you have something else that ties you to them. Will you remember that?" She asks, surveying me down her nose.

My daylight ring catches the light, and a smile forms at my lips. "Yep, got it."

Evelyn nods. We make arrangements to see each other again the night after tomorrow, and before long we're out on the streets again, having been pretty much kicked out. The walk back to the palace is spent debating whether anyone will have noticed our absence (negative), whether Evelyn is in cahoots with the hunters as well (probably positive) but also just wondering how much worse things are going to get now that we're most likely being stalked by some crazy famous hunter (and that, unfortunately, does not have a straight answer).

* * *

**Bit shorter chapter, sorry! Also, I really don't know much about magic and stuff, but I googled, and Dandelions came up as something to do with sleeping / messages as well as strength. But if that seems completely implausible, let me know!**

**Follow me on tumblr, I'm gloriousforbes. 8)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Nearly 100 reviews! You guys are seriously awesome I'm just dying in a pool of tears. This chapter is a little shorter, but hopefully I'll make up for it in the end? GET KEEN.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own pretty much nothing.**

* * *

By the time I get back to my room, I'm just about ready to fall into the sheets and never leave. But I have things to prepare before I do, so I set aside the flouncy dress I'm in, pull my daylight ring off, and grab a miniature vase to put the dandelion in. Once I've gotten ready for bed, I grab the ring and the flower. They sit on the covers in front of me. Now what? Do I lie down and blow off the petals? Attempt some chanting? Put the ring back on?

"Ugh!" I huff, before picking up the dandelion, and clutching the ring in my other hand. Might as well get it over and done with. The petals float off as I blow on them, and I'm thinking of Bonnie. Only Bonnie, and how much I just want to say sorry that she's gotten caught up in this vampire hunter business, and that I hope she's okay, I hope everyone's okay, and we'll find our way back to them soon enough. When the flower is nothing more than a bud and a stem, I stop. Nothing really happens, but then, I didn't expect it to.

I sit still for a few more minutes though, just in case.

Still, nothing. Rolling my eyes, I sweep the petals off the bed, slide my ring back on, and roll under the covers.

* * *

I'm in a room. An unfamiliar room, with a large window overlooking a garden, and quite a few antique pieces of furniture, none more so than the large bed with dark purple drapes. I'm halfway through admiring the décor when I realise that there's someone on the bed. Dark curls, dark skin –

"Bonnie?" I murmur, part cautious, part excited.

She sits up. "Oh my God, Caroline!"

I rush to her, pulling her into a hug, which is more like suffocation given the amount of time it's been since I last saw her and, well, when you're a vampire sometimes it's hard to know your own strength. She squeaks, I loosen my grip, and then we're both laughing like we're back at High School again.

"You're okay." I pull away, letting out a breath. "Oh, thank God, you're okay. I mean, I knew you were strong, but that spell was _crazy_ and it went haywire and we weren't sure if you made it or not and then –" I stop myself, smiling sheepishly at the fact that I'm rambling.

"How did you get here?" Bonnie blurts out.

I do a double take. "Uh, what do you mean?"

"You and Stefan are missing – how did you physically get here?" She tries again, gripping my arm suddenly as if to prove to both of us that neither of us is some weird phantom ghost thing.

"I don't know, last thing I remember, I was falling asleep and there was something about my daylight ring and then a dandelion...?" Shaking my head, because that sounds _ridiculous_, I speak again. "You're asleep too, right?"

Bonnie's eyes widen. "No." She shakes her head, still lost. "No, this is real. At least, I think it is…"

"Are you serious?" Huffing, I throw my hands in the air. "Vampires, werewolves, hybrids, witches and now _Inception_?" I gesture around the room, before pausing. "Wait a minute – where are we?"

Bonnie bites her lip. "Don't freak out." She starts.

I'm going to freak out, I just know it.

"We're in Klaus's mansion."

"What?" I shriek, and she winces. "What are you doing there?"

"I made a deal with him." She swallows.

"What kind of a deal?" I ask slowly.

"After you disappeared, Klaus figured out that his sword was missing. He was pissed, and," She lets out a shaky breath, "You can probably figure out the rest from there. I'm supposed to stay here and work with him until we can get you two back." Despite her resolute stance, I can tell this hasn't been easy on her.

"I'm so sorry Bonnie." Something prickles in my eyes – moisture. "Are you okay?"

She shakes her head. "That doesn't matter. I guess I sort of brought this on myself, going behind his back."

"No, Bonnie, you didn't." I say loudly, shaking my head, doing anything I can to show her that none of this is her fault. "You made a decision, sure, but no one ever asks to be abused." I swallow. More than anything else, we both know what it feels like to be used, to be discounted until someone has need of us. Bonnie more so than me, which is why it terrifies me that she should think things like that. "You deserve more than this, and don't ever believe otherwise, okay?" Before she can say anything else, I've pulled her back into one of my Care Bear hugs. Her arms wrap around my back as well, and we stay like that for a few moments.

I pull away slowly. "I'll find a way to contact Klaus, tell him to stop being a dick."

She manages a small smile. "He'll probably hold you captive too."

I snort. "I'd like to see him try." Expelling some air, my hair flicks off my face. "How has he been?" I bite my lip.

"The usual – arrogant, violent, pushy. Why?" Her eyes narrow.

"So he hasn't said anything like, I don't know, I remember?" I try mimicking his voice. Worst idea _ever._

"Remember what Caroline?" She's gripping my arm again.

"Um." My voice raises an octave – now that's not obvious at all. "Well, we're kind of stuck in 1687." The words rush out.

Bonnie blinks. She looks like she's about to say something, but then her lips press together. And slowly, she lets go, and her heartbeat returns to normal. She still hasn't said anything else though, and I wonder if she's gone into shock.

"Are you okay?" I ask tentatively. Granted, she's taking it a lot better than I did, but still.

"I've sent you four centuries back in time, Care, that's not 'okay' thing." She says, finding her voice. "And now you've obviously met Klaus and who knows what that's going to mean?"

"Well, you said he was acting normal. Even if he's got some big agenda, something like remembering meeting us in the past has got to be enough for him to consult a witch." I point out.

"Since when have you been so logical?" Bonnie cracks a smile.

I snort. "This isn't logical, this is me having way too much down time and spending pretty much all of it obsessing over the future." I shrug as if to say _what can you do_?

Bonnie shakes her head. "Well, I don't think anything's changed in that case, but I guess we won't know until it happens."

"I'm going to need some more dandelions then." I run a hand through my curls. Just another thing to ring up on my please-help-us-Evelyn tab. Sooner or later I'm going to need to find something bigger to negotiate with, because there's only so much she's going to get from my mind before she gets bored.

"Dandelions?" Bonnie bites her lip, her brow furrowed.

"They uh, help with sleeping stuff?"

The smallest of laughs erupts from her lips. "Okay, I'll remember that." After a second, the smile dies on her face. She looks at her hands. "Caroline, things might not have gone to hell yet, but some stuff has happened here." Swallowing, her eyes drift to the side, and I know her well enough to know she's not saying something for fear of hurting my feelings. But that was always Elena's territory, so it must be something big for _Bonnie_ to be anxious about it.

"Tell me." I say quietly.

"Elena is with Damon."

"With as in …?" I press, although I'm pretty sure I know the answer.

"As in, she's openly admitting she loves him and –" Bonnie breaks off grimacing, and the feeling is mutual. Whatever progress Damon has made with Elena in terms of the whole tantrum-killing-thing is never going to be enough for me to forgive him. Hell, he'd have to give me a _proper apology_ and maybe shine all my heels, and even then I'm still not sure I'd ever trust him. And I shouldn't have to either.

"It's weird. She just doesn't seem like herself anymore." Bonnie interrupts my interlude.

I frown. "Well, she did just become a vampire."

"This is different." She insists. "I mean, you were still you. She's –" Cutting herself off again, she huffs. "Look, it's like all she cares about these days is Damon. And yeah, maybe the transition heightened her feelings for him, but what about Stefan? She just doesn't seem to notice anymore."

Still frowning, I fold my arms across my chest. Honestly, I'm out of my depth. Vampire control, I'm good with that, but a change in personality? All I did was become larger than life, I didn't stop caring about the things I cared about before. "Well, I'll tell you what Stefan told me when I changed. Aim for normalcy." I let out a breath. "Sounds like a paradox, but the less she feels like her life has changed the better. And I'll see if I can get Stefan to contact her from this end, that'll help."

Bonnie nods, taking a step closer. Without even straining my hearing, I can hear her pulse accelerate. "There's one other thing." She's trying to be gentle, I can tell. "Tyler's gone."

The words slap me in the face, and I recoil. "What?"

"Matt said he said something about more hybrids, and then he and Hayley – they just left Mystic Falls." Her face is contorted with something like pity and sadness.

"He left with Hayley." I repeat to myself more than anything else, my voice quiet. There's a hollow feeling that has descended in my mouth, my stomach, my chest. Should've known. Should've known that he wouldn't wait, no matter how long I would have waited for him, waited an eternity. Did he even try? Or did he just decide it wasn't worth it? Because I wasn't in the picture anymore – or even if I was, was I just not enough to make him stay?

I feel sick.

Yes, I should have known. No, I'm clearly not enough.

"I'm so sorry." She whispers.

I make a noise – sounds like a whimper, small, trodden, alone.

And then I wake up.

The sheets are sticking against my sweat-drenched skin, and the absolute stillness of the room does nothing for the dead quiet that has settled in my mind. It's not even like I can hear my heart beat desperately for the boy I still love – it is also dead. And as for hearing my own thoughts – nope. I'm just empty, like someone's stuck a vacuum on both my ears, pulled more than my mind out just ripped the organ out of my chest, and all that remains is a dull ringing sound. I lie there for hours, still and silent. Eventually, my brain starts to function again, and I don't know whether to be glad that I'm sort of back to normal, or repulsed by the images that linger as a result of Bonnie's words. Elena and Damon, Tyler and Hayley – the world has left us behind, I think bitterly to Stefan. So that's just another silver medal to add to my relationships cupboard. _Go me_. It must be some time past three in the morning when I move again. I slide a hand up to my face, and wipe away the rivers that have driven themselves down my cheeks, on to the pillow beneath. I don't move again for another hour. The tears dry. I have to get out of these sheets.

Slowly, I fumble with the covers until I can feel the cool air against my legs. The remainder of the petals crunch under my toes when they hit the ground. Damn. Some small stupid part of me had been holding out for the reveal that the entire conversation hadn't been real, you know, it had just been inside my head, but then again, in the words of Dumbledore –

Stop, I think, almost angrily. Not helping.

I stand up and walk towards the door, praying to whatever people above who exist that there won't be anyone outside. Pressing my palm against the doorknob, I drag the door open. There's no one there. Well, I suppose something had to go my way tonight. Walking down the corridor, the silence overwhelms me once more. There's no one in this part of the mansion, but my thoughts hang overhead like some storm cloud, and what should be some simple midnight trek turns into me, wallowing and just waiting for the bubble to burst. Only this time, my tears won't leak out from the corners of my eyes, I'll probably end up foetal. And goddamn it, there's not even some sappy yet awesome chick flick to help take my mind off things.

I pass through countless corridors and rooms, each as empty as the last. It occurs to me that the other occupants – read: Klaus and Elijah – are probably out on some hunt. I picked a good night to wander then. My stomach grumbles. Maybe I just need chocolate. Is that invented yet?

_How do they survive here_?

Sighing, I push through another corridor, into another room. This one is empty and lit in parts by the moon through the windows like the others, but there's another source of brightness too. Across the room from me is a door, framed by a glow at the bottom. I'm tired, and sad, and therefore reckless. So I do what I probably shouldn't, and cross the room. If there's someone on the other side, I want to know who it is.

I brush it open. It doesn't creak, so the only noise that results is me, taking in a breath.

The majority of the room is taken by canvases, all different sizes with different pictures, and different colour. Amongst all that are small stools, littered with candles, paints, brushes and smaller pieces of paper. It smells distinctly arty, but then my nose naturally picks up on hints of alcohol as well. Standing in the centre, no less a masterpiece than the things around him, is Klaus. His curls seem unrulier. And the loose white shirt he wears is open, and you know I'm not really a poet, but his chest just screams _Greek God_. But the thing that stands out the most, the thing that makes me almost stumble is his gaze. Intense doesn't even begin to cover it.

For what feels like hours but is probably only minutes, we just stand there, locked in some staring contest. I should excuse myself, apologise and run back to the relative safety of my bed. Because I can see now that he's got a brush in his hand, and who knows, maybe he's one of those mad geniuses who go bonkers when someone disturbs them while they're working. He's definitely got the temperamental bit down. But, in what seems to be a common occurrence between us, I don't flinch away.

He breaks the calm first. "Do you like it?" His voice is low.

I'm not sure what he means at first, but then my eyes drift beyond him to look at what he's painting. It's dark, that's the most obvious of things, but my eyesight doesn't have trouble picking up on the smaller changes in shade – there's black, and charcoal, and navy and dark green and other variations of bleakness, all swirled together. But that's just the background. At the centre of the canvas is a blotch of white, and I say blotch in the most artistic sense in that it doesn't look like he's hurled a bowl of pale paint at it. It's textured, but dwarfed by the rest of the canvas in comparison. Slowly, I turn my gaze back to him. He's waiting patiently, his hands resting by his sides.

I consider lying – either extreme will be fine, I love it, I hate it. But then the words he'd once printed on a picture like the ones strewn to the side come back to me. "There's something lonely about it." I say quietly.

The corners of his lips tilt upwards. "That's very perceptive of you."

"Am I wrong?" I don't miss a beat.

The smile doesn't slide off, it just freezes. No, I'm not wrong at all. It's probably just the hour, and the loss of Tyler, but I want to reach out to him. Tell him that yeah, it sucks, I get it. And it doesn't matter how many barriers you build or smiles you fake, deep down, there's not a single part of us that wants to be alone, or neglected, or replaced. But it happens anyway. He doesn't trust or love at all, and I let people in too easily. Wow, someone get us a drink.

I spy a bottle of scotch. His eyes follow my gaze, and literally three seconds later, he has it opened and is pouring two glasses. The antique smell permeates the air, and for a weird second I can see myself getting used to this room. But then it goes, and I'm reaching for the drink. Last time I got drunk over a guy – nope, not going there.

I take a mouthful, but it's a big one because I'm stupid and choking and so instead of looking like a dying fool I get out the first thing on my mind. "What's it supposed to be?"

He takes a bigger drink than me, only he doesn't end up drowning. Then again, he could just be stalling. "What do you think it's supposed to be?" He tilts his head to the side.

I scowl. "Don't play coy."

He turns back to the painting. "Can't have you knowing all my secrets." His voice is teasing, but I can sense that he's not going to say anymore on the topic.

Rolling my eyes, I take another drink. An awkward silence fills the air, and I take the opportunity to look around at all his other paintings. I'm no art major, but I can tell there's about half a dozen different styles present, and he seems to be good at every one of them. My fingers linger over a couple of sketches. One is a horse, the other is a boat, and then there's one that's –

Oh. Me. Laughing from behind my mask.

I'd be lying if I didn't say it made something twist inside my chest.

My lips form an 'O' as I feel something move behind me, and then, suddenly, there's another pair of fingertips trailing over the picture. I'm not surprised at the ease in which he sneaks up on me, but it still makes me shiver. _He_ makes me shiver.

And we're not even touching. Swallowing, I move out from his semi-embrace, and start admiring the other works. I can still feel the infinitesimal gap between our skins, as if his silhouette is etched against my body, and speaking of bodies – how in the hell am I supposed to concentrate on the art work when he's walking around in barely a shirt? I take another large gulp on my drink, and stop in front of a picture that has more brightness and colours than the others. It's still simplistic in desire, kind of like a companion to the other one; red and orange hues on the backdrop, splashes of gold in the middle.

"I like this one."

He comes to stand next to me, and the genuine smile is back. "One of my more recent works."

Recent as in my definition of recent? Or are we talking the last decade? I don't get a chance to ask though, because he starts talking again. "Perhaps I can show you another?" He looks hopeful, happy, neither the definition of the Hybrid I know. But I shrug and smile nevertheless, and he leads his way through another two unfinished canvases, before stopping in front of a slightly smaller one. This one has a clearer image at its heart though; a bird against a pale blue sky. Again, not the kind of thing I've come to expect from him. It's unnerving.

"Beautiful." I say, and my voice catches in my throat. He must notice this, because he turns to me, his face suddenly serious.

"Why were you crying before?"

My mouth opens. And then closes. "I wasn't crying." I scoff; usually that throws people off the scent.

"I was hardly born yesterday; don't lie to me." His face is still unforgiving.

"I wasn't crying." I say, obstinate, but because he looks less convinced than me when Bonnie first said she was psychic (haha, ironic) I fold my arms across my chest and narrow my eyes. "And even if I was, it's none of your business."

He looks like he's about to say something, but then his demeanour changes. "Well then love, I can only suggest you drain whichever sycophant has upset you, and let us move on to more pleasurable activities." He smiles, tilting his head upwards, completely devoid of anything moral.

"I'll pass." I start to walk away from him. "Unlike you, my murderous switch is safely flicked off." I mutter under my breath. Naturally though, he hears me, and the next moment sees him flashing in front of me, blocking my path.

"Have I upset you?" He's way too close to me.

I take a step back. "Yeah, you have." I blow out some air. "But let me get to bed now and maybe I won't be so mad tomorrow."

"Or you could stay here." He phrases it as more of a command though. "There's still a bottle to finish. Seems a waste to drink it by myself." He's smiling, but the emotion does not reach his eyes, which are empty, lonely. Naturally, the human side of me elects to stay behind, because I know what's it's like to have a bottle in one hand, memories in the other, and no one to talk to.

And of course, because the human side of me is the side that sees his lips and his eyes and his hair and his chest and ends up drooling, the idea of sitting with him seems appealing.

"One drink." I say, compromising. I've done this with him before, so what harm can it do?

He grins again, grabs the bottle, and flops on to the antique love seat in the corner. Once he's refilled his glass, he beckons me closer so he can deposit some more scotch in mine. I sit down on the couch as well, leaving enough space for three people between us.

I don't know what to say, so I end up just drinking some more. I could probably beat Damon at this, the way I'm going. Without inclining my head in his direction, I can tell he's watching me through hooded eyes, which is both annoying and flattering. Mainly annoying, I think.

I shift my head to the side. "What?" I demand. He doesn't respond, he just keeps on smiling, which is actually more worrisome given our history. "Why are you staring at me?" Still, no answer. I scowl. "It would last longer if you drew a picture – oh wait! You've already done that." I turn my head away.

He slides closer. "You're beautiful; is it unthinkable that I would want to capture that on paper?"

I roll my eyes. "Wow. I bet you've got a whole sketch book of women who've fallen for that line."

He laughs outright. "None of them quite as obstinate as you though."

"Get used to that." I flick some hair over my shoulder. Admittedly, it's nice to be complimented. But there's complimented, and then there's Klaus, and I must not get the two of them muddled. I swallow some more of the alcohol, and it doesn't burn as much on its way down this time.

We fall into a semi-comfortable silence. He's leaning back on the couch now, drinking and staring at his pictures. He does look lonely; eyes flickering, mouth set in a line, and a blank expression.

I break the quiet. "You know, you didn't answer my question before."

He raises his eyebrows curiously. "And what would that be?"

"Well, the painting." I wave a hand at the dark one. "And whatever it's supposed to be."

He stares. Whenever I talk to him, I'm aware of this line that hovers at the back of my mind. Every now and then I toy with crossing it, but it's more or less a shadow, and I wouldn't want to go too far for fear of getting lost. Now it looks like I've jumped it, and my undead heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest and into his hands. Which was an incredibly stupid way to think about my nerves, particularly as he could literally do just that.

He swallows. "It's not meant to be anything, sweetheart."

I furrow my eyebrows, confused and still on edge.

"It is nothing. Just an expanse of fathomless dark. Even the shades are illusions of loneliness and vitriol." He swallows the last of the drink, his eyes finally wandering away from mine, although he's now staring at our very topic, even more lost than before.

"What about the white in the middle?" I ask.

He laughs, but it lacks mirth. "The obligatory addition of balance."

"Redemption." The word slips out before I can swallow it.

He turns back to me. "Redemption?" He repeats, almost mockingly, before shaking his head. "There is no light at the end of the tunnel for me."

"Maybe." I fold my hands together. "Or maybe you just haven't found it yet."

He stares at me, curiously, different than before. His dark blue eyes seem to sharpen the longer we keep our gazes locked. It's the alcohol, I tell myself. It's given me a buzz, making me want things without reason. Because there shouldn't be this pull otherwise; I shouldn't feel this ridiculous connection to him. I guess in the end I'm just reaching for something. Breaking the eye contact, I swallow the last drops of the scotch, and stand up, fully intent on leaving this room before things become any more convoluted.

In an instant, he has stood up and grasps my arm. The contact sends a pulse of heat across the surface. "Wait." He says in a low voice. "Why are you leaving?" And we're back to the demands.

I turn around, holding the empty glass up. "I said one drink." My arm drops listlessly back to my side, and I avert my eyes.

He looks like he's about to argue, but then he blinks, letting go of my arm, and relents back a few steps. My eyes follow him backwards. Bad idea. Now the only thing I see is his flawless chest and flawless face. "Thank you for your company." He says. There is nothing pretentious about it; he is simply thanking me, and it's so genuine, and so rare that –

Screw it.

I drop the glass. And then, in a few short steps, I have pressed my lips against his. For a moment, it's like I've caught him off guard. But then his arms wrap themselves around me, his mouth moving against mine in a flurry of heat and lust. Now, _he_ is a glorious kisser. Soft then demanding, aching then passionate. And it doesn't just stop there. One hand grasps in my curls, the other my waist, and when he pulls me closer he is flicking the tip of his tongue against my lips and _Holy mother of God if this is not paradise_. My fingers trail across the skin at the nape of his neck and across his chest, and he groans into my mouth. Responding in kind, he drags a hand agonisingly slowly across the naked flesh of my thigh. It's like an inferno across my skin, starting from my lips and pooling between my legs. Now I'm moaning into the kiss, savouring every shiver that runs through my body and ends in his at the contact. He's an aphrodisiac, he's –

Klaus. **Klaus**_. _I'm kissing _Klaus_.

I push him away, my eyes and lips flying open. Did I just – ? I did. My hand claps over my mouth; must avoid the temptation to pull him against me and jump his bones. He's staring at me with a mixture of lust and intent, which hardly helps the situation, and no matter how much I try to inhale and exhale him from my system, the thumping in my chest still stays erratic. _I have to get out of here._ Without another word, I spin on my heel and flee the room.

* * *

**THEY KISSED EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE**

**Follow me on tumblr at gloriousforbes for stuff 8)**


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